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LETTERS 



OF 



JAMES SAVAGE 

TO HIS FAMILY 



{PRIVATELY PRINTED) 



BOSTON 
1906 



PREFACE. 

The letters, privately printed, in this little 
volume, are thought to be of sufficient interest 
to the family and friends of Mr. Savage, to merit 
their preservation. 

It may seem inconsistent that the first letter 
should be one addressed to a stranger; but as 
its date, two years after his graduation from 
college, marks an unusual experience for a 
young man, twenty-two years of age, I venture 
to insert it. 

In 1805, Mr. Savage's cousin, the late Frederic 
Tudor, engaged him to accompany his elder 
brother, William Tudor, to visit the principal 
islands of the West Indies, for the purpose of 
establishing the ice-trade there. 

In the month of November they sailed for 
Martinique, and soon after arriving there, Mr. 
Savage was attacked with yellow fever. He 
was, at the time, visiting Monseiur D'Aubifret, 
a gentleman who had passed his youth in Boston. 



IV 

It chanced that the governor of the island, 
who had come to visit Madame Le Pagerie the 
mother of the Empress Josephine, was invited, 
with his physician who accompanied him, to 
dine at the house of Mr. Savage's friend. 

In the course of the dinner the kind host 
stated that he had a young friend lying seriously 
ill in the next room. The physician immediately 
became interested in the case, and it was to 
his skill that Mr. Savage owed his life. 

While a guest of Monseiur D'Aubifret, Mr. 
Savage received many kind attentions from 
Madame Le Pagerie. 

Emma Rogers. 



LETTERS OF JAMES SAVAGE 



LETTERS 

OF 

JAMES SAVAGE. 



To Monsieur D'Aubifret, Trois Islets, 
Island of Martinique. 

Boston, Oct. i6, 1806. 
To D'Aubifret. 

I rejoice, my dear Sir, in this opportunity 
for writing to you with a probability of the safe 
arrival of my letter. To your excellent mother 
and amiable cousin I send by Nicolas some 
little keepsakes which a lady procured for me, 
and so I hope they may be proper. I could 
never give you and them a perfect testimonial 
of my gratitude, and am willing to hope, that 
the inhabitants at Trois Islets will not soon 
forget me. I shall bless the day on which we 
went down to your house, as often as I think 
of it, and its remembrance will rise in my mind 
with every reflection on my past life, which 
you preserved. Since my letter in June my 
Uncle Tudor with Madame and Madamoiselle* 

♦Afterwards Mrs. Commodore Stuart. 



have sailed for France, and we yesterday heard 
of their arrival. How long they will remain 
is uncertain. Delia is a fine, accomplished, 
beautiful girl, and it is not impossible, that 
some one of your countrymen may be con- 
quered by her charms. Wm. Tudor who seems 
destined to wander over the world, like Ulysses, 
sailed in August for London. Besides the ex- 
perience and sagacity, which his predecessor 
acquired, I hope he will obtain property suf- 
ficient to allow him some nest for the remainder 
of his life. The youngling Harry Tudor is 
immersed in science at Cambridge; while Fred., 
le negotiant universal, is plotting against all 
your West Indies schemes of freezing you all 
as well as ourselves in the ensuing season. 
Cuba and Jamaica as well as Martinique and 
Barbadoes will certainly be cooled. O quel 
fraicheur aimable! My sweet cousin Emma 
Gardiner will stay, I fear, thro' the winter 
down on their estate in the country one hun- 
dred and fifty miles from those who most desire 
to see her. I continue in the lazy study of law, 
and shall be admitted in a few months to plead 
in the secondary court. The great number of 
gentlemen, which is between fifty and sixty, 
almost discourages me, but I shall not be driven 



from my native city. The clergy have most 
learning, the physicians most money, and the 
lav^yers most honor in our country. Many of 
your former friends have inquired respecting 
you and your family. The number of French 
people in our country is much less, than v^hen 
you w^ere with us. But a few days ago I found 
one in the country, a fugitive from the infernal 
brigandage of St. Domingo, who, tho' he has 
been in America fourteen years, is most de- 
termined to go home and lay his bones in 
France. I pray you, let me be remembered 
by your friends D'Audifrede and his lady, 
Madame Beaupont and others. I kiss the 
hand of your mother and Madame Faure, 
and wish to yourself every blessing which you 
deserve, or which heaven can send. 

Jas. Savage. 



Boston, 6 Novr. i8i6. 

To Mrs. Robert Hallowell Gardiner. 

Dear Emma, — Your note did indeed find me 
at Boston, and not the least remains of my 
journey fever disturbing my quiet. Indeed I 
was not so uneasy as you seemed to imagine, 



when you suggest that I should not inquire 
for your key. I hope you received it at the 
proper time, by return of the stage. I have 
had a great press of business since my return, 
which has not permitted me to see all your 
friends. Lincoln spent Thursday evening with 
us. His child is perfectly recovered, he says; 
but his wife is not. I shall probably pass Sun- 
day next there. Mr. Richard's two boys were 
worth bringing from England, indeed. They 
were very well, but the young lady's love 
towards me has cooled surprisingly. At Mr. 
Frothingham's I have not had leisure to call, 
but left your letter the morning of my arrival. 
That, wretched me! was not till Wednesday 
ten o'clock. I had flattered myself with the 
glorious hope of reaching my own bed on 
Tuesday; but the stage was condemned by 
the new arrangement to stop at Newburyport. 
But I had not to ride in an open wagon, nor 
get wet through. The evening of Thursday 
after my return, I was employed to play the 
important part of bridesman in the wedding 
visit of my friend Alex. H. Everett, Esquire. 
My compeer was Francis C. Gray. I can say 
nothing more about fashionable engagements 
but that this evening I go to a ball at Colo. 



Perkinses, though as the invitations run in the 
name of the young ladies I conclude it is not to be 
very crowded. 

I saw over the fireplace at Gardiner a plan 
on a single sheet of paper of the Institution 
in England (London) for the Savings Banks, 
officers' names, computations, &c. Though I 
did not half read, I was much occupied with 
the subject on my way up, and find it a very 
desirable project to introduce here. Mr. 
Vaughan authorized me to desire Mr. Gardi- 
ner to send up that paper. If he has mislaid 
it, perhaps Charles Vaughan, Mr. Merrick or 
William Vaughan may have one. I desire to 
have it sent by the first private opportunity, 
and the blessings of the poor, or of those who 
are prevented from being poor, shall remain 
on him and 

Your affectionate 

Jas. Savage. 

Mrs. Tudor told me last evening, she would 
go to New Jersey next week. I always believe 
people will go, after the event has verified a 
promise. 



Boston, 20 August, 1818. 

To Mrs. James Otis Lincoln. 

Dear Madam, — To trace the beginning and 
growth of the intimate friendship between your 
late husband and myself will afford me so 
much gratification, that I shall hope for your 
indulgence in a few words, though to you, who 
so perfectly witnessed the continuance of it, 
such relation may be less interesting than to 
be told how devoted I must be to cherish the 
remembrance. My boyish acquaintance, be- 
fore meeting him, had embraced but one per- 
son, whose congenial temper would cause our 
amusements and occupation to flow in the 
same channel. The long intimacy with that 
gentleman, the Revd. S. C. Thacher, had been 
closed by untimely death only a few months 
since. I have not seen many persons to whom 
I should feel stronger attractions, on his own ac- 
count, than Mr. Lincoln; but it was the assid- 
uous kindness of his mother, the most useful 
and affectionate friend that ever cared for me^ 
which bound her children to me as brothers. 
For many years she was indeed my mother, 
and permitted me to use even that name in 
addressing her. Her benevolence was com- 



9 

prehensive enough to include many friends, 
but towards me was always specially shown. 
Being doubly an orphan, as my own mother 
died one day after my brother Arthur was born, 
and a father's protection had been some months 
before providentially withdrawn from us for- 
ever; to her I was perhaps more indebted than 
most children to their natural parents. This 
debt has ever been regarded as sacred, and 
now seems much to have accumulated, as so 
long unpaid. To your husband, in his younger 
days, my aid and advice was always given, in 
its humble measure, and at a riper age his 
study of a profession was in connexion with 
me. He has had many occasions of proving 
his regard; and now that a more urgent op- 
portunity demands it, nothing will be so sweet 
to me as returning the obligation. 

I may not presume, madam, to comprehend 
fully the extent of your affliction, but it will not 
be indelicate for me to urge that your duties 
cannot be forgotten or postponed. Support 
and comfort are needed by you, but heaven 
can afford none, beside your own contempla- 
tions, equal to the endearments arising from 
the education of those representatives of your 
husband. It may be happy that both are fe- 



lO 

males, as a widowed mother should feel less 
anxiety in bringing them up, than she must 
unavoidably entertain for the more perilous 
state of boys. They will imitate you more 
closely, and to them may be more surely com- 
municated your own softness. This consola- 
tion may the God of the widow grant you. 

Of business I spoke very little to you at 
Hingham. But it is now necessary to enlarge. 
Some person must administer upon the estate 
of your husband. You are the most favoured 
by the law, which gives to you or the next of 
kin that trust as of course. If you undertake 
it, every assistance in my power may be relied 
on. Nor should you be deterred by fear that 
your being unacquainted with business may 
be an impediment. If however you desire it 
I would unite with you in receiving the au- 
thority from the Judge of Probate, or if it be 
disagreeable for you to act at all, would under- 
take the duty alone. You must not however 
be anxious about making an immediate de- 
termination, but may think ten or twelve days 
upon it, and with Uncle Martin's* advice, form 
a deliberate resolution. If you conclude to 

*Son of Gen. Benjamin Lincoln and brother-in-law of Mary (Otis) 
Lincoln. 



II 

act, it becomes necessary for you to go to Scit- 
uate next Monday fortnight, to enter on the 
trust and give bonds. I would accompany 
you. But be assured that no reason exists to 
give you any uneasiness on your temporal con- 
cerns for a moment. Begging you again, 
madam, to communicate freely to me any 
commands, whether they may to you seem im- 
portant or trifling, which it will ever be my 
highest pleasure to attend and fulfill, I remain, 
with sincere esteem. 

Yours devoted servant 

Jas. Savage. 



Mr. Savage made a voyage to Demerara in 
1 8 19 in the interests of Mrs. Lincoln, in order 
to establish her claims to a valuable estate there. 

Demerary 2 August, 1819. 
To Mrs. Lincoln. 

Dear Madam, — To relate to a lady the par- 
ticulars of our voyage would be little interesting, 
for no variety could I tell of, more than that one 
day we caught a boneta, another, a dolphin, a 
third saw one vessel, a fourth, two. No storm 
gave an incident, and long heart-sinking calm 



12 

was not vexatious to me. We arrived last night, 
but the vessel cannot yet come in, till the deeper 
sea on the bar, perhaps two days. The Court 
will commence a fortnight from to-morrow, 
and, I hope, our cause will be heard during 
the term. I am disposed, quite at home, at 
Mr. Benjamin's, and this morning have called 
on the Governour, but can hardly say any 
thing more than that my health was never 
better, and that its continuance is chiefly de- 
sired that you and your children may receive 
the service of your friend 

Jas. Savage. 



Demarary, 4 August, 1819. 

Dear King, — I have no long directions now 
to give you, and it would be rather late, if there 
were any to be executed. Only tell Lem'l 
Shaw that having had so long a passage out 
here, only arrived Sunday evening i Aug. and 
our ship not yet got into the river, so that I am 
only half ashore, I may possibly not return to 
Boston to attend October Court, and that I will 
write him soon. 

My health is very good. It is hot and wet, 
to be sure, but hope will help me through alive, 



13 

and two days have gone out of the sixty that I 
was willing to devote here. Were I half dis- 
sected, I should revive on getting on board a 
vessel, bound within five hundred miles of 
Boston. Bless all the house. I dreamt of 
Alicia, when fifty days from Boston. Tell 
Lee Calcutta may be worse than Demerary, 
though for some hundred miles all ways there 
is no land here a foot above high water mark, 
and all the country is dammed and ditched 
and diked and canalled, so that it must be moist 
enough in a dry season, but now being the rainy, 
is worse. Motley* ought to pity me, for my 
last segar was spent on Saturday, and there is 
no touch of tabaco del reyna known in this re- 
gion. If I never return, let Mansonif be as- 
sured, "I will speak some more funs." When 
Rollins sees Helen Davis, he must not tell her 
how many hours every evening her songs were 
ringing in my ears, though my thoughts were 
diametrically opposite to Lord Byron's, 

And now I'm in the world alone 
Upon the wide, wide sea. 

* Father of historian. -j- Italian consul in Boston. 



14 

Demerara, half past two p.m. 

25 Nov. 1819. 
To Mrs. Lincoln. 

As the Court was not opened this morning, 
my dear lady, till half past twelve, you may 
presume, that I waited with some anxiety. 
However, when it began, I felt none at all. The 
counsel against us, stated historically the cir- 
cumstances which had occasioned this suit, 
and, after opening his venerable old law, Voet 
ad Pandectas, referring to the lex tripartita, 
and all the authorities about testaments, pro- 
ceeded to read his evidence, and state his points. 
The President caught at the matter of the cause 
very quick, and remarked upon all the evi- 
dence, as the counsel went along. On some 
of the weak parts all the Court and spectators 
smiled; and our Counsel was allowed only, 
on explanation of rejection of a slight piece 
of testimony, two minutes remarks. The Court 
will perhaps soon form an opinion; and every 
body congratulated me on the necessary one 
that must follow. It was only half past one, 
when another cause was taken up. I left the 
Court house to communicate my felicitations 
to you on the good appearances, but was de- 
tained by Mr. Albuoy to read Mr. P. Benja- 



15 

min's kind expressions for you and the chil- 
dren. Them you must embrace for me till 
evening. I go to dine at Mr. A's, and tomor- 
row shall hope to have better news, and Wednes- 
day best of all. But we may be deceived in 
half the battle, and detained here to Christmas. 
We may, indeed, lose the whole battle, but we 
shall be able with Francis I. to say, we have 
lost all but our honor. Ever yours 

Jas. Savage. 

Mr. Savage was married to Mrs. Lincoln in 
April, 1823. 

Summer of 1827. 
Tuesday Evening. 
To HIS Wife. 

I left Cambridge after sundown, and found 
the walk very warm. It was exceedingly pleas- 
ant walking in the morning soon after eight. I 
dined with the President in the corporation 
room as last Saturday, and having finished our 
duty soon after six, took tea at his house. My 
walk in the morning was solitary, but on re- 
turn was accompanied by my colleague, Frank 
C. Gray, who walked out, as well as myself, 
but half an hour later. The young men ap- 



i6 

peared very well in general, and your nephew 
George * was excelled only two or three in any 
thing, and by them only in a very trifle. The 
President is exceedingly pleased with him, 
and talked much of his good manners and good 
principles. 

Since my return I find the packet did not 
get up before dark, so that is probable Lucinda f 
must go in the coach. I regret not being able 
to send you the list of authors of the three Nos. 
of the N. A. Rev. for which I wrote a note to 
Mr. Hale this morning, and in my hurry for- 
got to request the answer to be sent to the 
house. J. s. 



Monday Evening. 
Aug. 4, 1828. 
To HIS Wife. 

There is nothing in the world for me, my 
dear wife, to tell but that my brother John is 
better, and his removal is postponed, perhaps 
will be unnecessary. It would be quite grati- 
fying to know what you are this moment en- 
gaged in, because, as the children are now 
fast asleep, all of them, you may find some time 

* George S. Hillard. f Children's nurse. 



17 

to write to me, if you are in the quiet of Dennys- 
ville, and perhaps even returned by this hour, 
it wants three minutes of ten, from any gay 
society in the dissipated city of Eastport. With 
the heat you can hardly be oppressed so late 
in the season, for here it has been cool enough 
the last eight days and in the nights 'twere 
well to avoid having all the doors and windows 
open, or else one must employ a coverlid. It 
is very clear to me, that my health has im- 
proved by this sleeping with free air so much, 
for I have taken no cold by day or night, and 
have slept much sounder. It has been in my 
power too to work as much as I desired without 
fatigue, and yet no relaxation has been taken, 
but what has been faithfully told to you. On 
Thursday next we propose to make an excur- 
sion in the harbour, at least to look at Hospital 
island, where our Committee of Aldermen for 
the Quarantine may secure one chowder as 
reward of their summer's work. Good night 
my sweet Mrs. Governor Winthrop, and to- 
morrow morning let me exult in having a let- 
ter from yourself and good stories of the chil- 
dren. 



i8 

Tuesday, 5 Aug. 

You deserve not, I fear, to have this letter 
forwarded today, because I get nothing from 
you of date later than three years, weeks I 
mean, yesterday. But as I can give you some 
very good news, I will not be so selfish as to 
keep it back. Mr. Hillard this morning told 
me, that yesterday afternoon he carried John 
to a place in the shop of Mr. Felt, stationer 
and bookseller. State street, which I believe 
will be a capital chance for him, but he will 
continue to attend his school a fortnight longer, 
until the exhibition. Now be so kind as to 
make me some amends, and if you ever desire 
to get another letter from me, write, write, 
write some yourself, least I cease to subscribe, 
as the chief happiness of my life. 

Your affectionate husband 

Jas. Savage. 



Saturday, 16 Augt., 1828. 
To HIS Wife. 

I have been so happy, my dear wife, all this 
week, on account of receiving your delightful 
letter of Sunday before last on the seventh day 
after its date, that no complaint has yet been 



19 

uttered of the non-arrival of the Packet, by 
which further tidings will come of your wel- 
fare, even though written only by the children. 
The mother will put in some words, without 
doubt, for they can hardly cover a whole sheet 
by themselves. 

You may see by the newspapers, what an 
interesting time was passed at Salem on Wednes- 
day in celebrating the completion of Dr. Hol- 
yoke's hundredth year. Dr. Hayward was at 
the dinner and carried his wife in the afternoon 
to the old man's house. In the evening, she 
engaged me to come to dinner next day, have 
Harriet brought early, and go to ride to Mrs. 
Hayward's at Newton. It was likely on Thurs- 
day to be very warm, so Hannah * went soon 
after breakfast, and made a stop at your sister's 
on her return for the little one f to be shown 
there and also to get a nap. She was attended 
all the day by Hannah, and soon after four we 
took our drive. It would take up more than 
this sheet of paper to particularize all her ex- 
pressions of delight on the road out and back, 
but particularly at the parrot, the snow white 
foreign doves and the peacock and her young. 
We kept her to sleep in Emma's crib, and sent 

* Nurse. -j- Harriet, second daughter. 



20 



her home on Friday morning. Aunt Bowles 
says she is the very picture of what you were 
at her age. 

Sunday. 

George came home on Friday, much im- 
proved in strength, in fine spirits and nearly 
prepared for his commencement services. He 
called twice to see me, once before I got home 
to tea, and after I had gone out to see sister 
Bruce. But on Saturday forenoon he sat some 
time with me, and was with my club in the 
evening. It is yet uncertain, how he will be 
disposed of in the world next month. Mr. 
Green would be very happy to take him to 
the plains, but perhaps the slavery is too close 
there for the compensation. It might be 
much better at Taunton, if they have no suc- 
cessor to the elegant little gentleman, who 
married your cousin West. Capt Sargent ar- 
rived yesterday before daylight, but not very 
successful, in my apprehension, in his voyage, 
for he was in such haste to get back, as to 
leave all his outward cargo unsold. This day 
fortnight I hope to be on the water proceeding 
to the Eastward, but how near my happiness 
at the end of the voyage is on many accounts 



21 



uncertain, but by the next letter I shall be able 
to give you some better approach to certainty. 
The packet for this week is not yet arrived, 
but there is now a Northerly wind, and I shall 
confidently look for my letter tomorrow. The 
weather has been very good lately, quite dry 
for almost three weeks, and now quite as cool 
as we desire. Today noon I have letters from 
Demarary quite late 17 July. The advice 
from London is favorable, and Mr. Benjamin 
expects within three months to have all the 
preparation made for giving security to the 
English lender by the purchase of your estate 
and to receive the first quarterly payment for 
the great object of anxiety which has given 
so much color to both our lives. With Ben* 
I have since church this afternoon shaken 
hands for good-bye. The Ticknors returned 
last evening, and I shall go there, after brother 
William's, this evening. The city begins to 
fill with residents, and many strangers. You 
must write to me, if it be very few words on 
receipt of this, for you may need to remind me 
of several trifles, and as the mail comes on 
Thursday evening, I can perhaps get a letter 
on Friday some hours before sailing. Sailing, 

* Benjamin Lincoln, son of Judge Lincoln of Dennysville. 



22 

sailing, what a delight it will be to me, to say 
it is twelve weeks since my wife parted from 
me, and we shall in all probability never again 
be twelve weeks apart. 

Monday. 

To HIS Wife. 

You shall not, my sweet wife, depreciate 
yourself by saying how much better I was 
than you should have been. Your letter found 
this morning in the office, as mv expectation 
of the Packet was just, is much better than I 
expected. The dear children wrote (both) 
very pleasantly. But Molly is rather too 
speculative, when she doubts if I shall know 
Emma, because she has grown so rude. Why, 
that is only going back to her former state, 
before she went to Miss Lamb,* and if the 
Lion again lie down with the lamb, no doubt 
she will be tamed. Our Hannah had quite 
an adventure last evening. She was at Mrs. 
Lucinda's,f who was gone with her Peter to 
lecture, and the bell was then tolling, the baby 
had been asleep but a minute or two, when an 
ill-looking fellow, without a coat and having 

* "A dame's school." 
■j- A former nurse in Mr. Savage's family. 



23 

his shirt sleeves rolled up, Hannah probably 
thought, in an alarming manner for Sunday 
evening, expressed by his mode of advance an 
intention of coming into the house. She ran 
and fastened the door, screamed murder, and 
no doubt frightened herself, though the sailor 
advised her to the contrary. As he attempted 
to get in at the kitchen v^indov^, she fastened 
the parlor door, and cried murder louder, 
and louder, but I am glad to say not quite 
loud enough to weaken Harriet, but loud 
enough to bring one of the neighbors to her 
relief. So she v^ent up stairs, and took up 
your baby, v^hich I am sorry for, as it w^aked 
her and might have given her alarm. She 
was carried in a blanket to the next house, 
and the fellow, who had wantonly caused the 
disturbance, having previously in his drunken 
folly, alarmed somebody in the vicinity, was 
after hiding, dragged out and committed to 
confinement. Harriet was full of fun for two 
hours after it, Hannah says. That I can 
easily believe, for she looked in the morning, 
when Ben and I went to pass an hour with her, 
like the essence of good humor, pretty well 
condensed, her cheeks and arms being as hard 
almost as the children's India rubber ball. 



24 

1 luivwas an alarm to otlici people than Han- 
nah yostorday, hut at an earlier hour, while 
we were at eluireh, in the afterncHMi. It seems 
the tenants of the state prison, antieipating 
with strcMig dislike the solitary sleep they must 
scHMi have in their new apartments almost 
prepared, instead of the aj^reeahle society of 
six or sixteen in a room now enjoyed, had made 
preparations for a fire to hurst out in the work- 
shops while the whole pious congregation were 
assemhled in their chapel. The confusion would 
iiave heen a sweet chance for their escape. Un- 
luckily the hre was tardv, and they were all, 
except the cooks, locked in their respective 
apartments hef'ore an\ evil was discovered. 
1 he UmtCil States corps oi Marines was called 
hy the prison alarm hell, and the result is, 
though some workshc^ps are destroyed, and 
every religous society in Bostt^n and Charles- 
town was disturhed in their exercises, no single 
son o{' perdition got free. 1 have heen this 
evening on the Connnon with Cicorge to hear 
the music, which was finer than connnon, 
though it would have heen far hetter enjoyed, 
had the temperature been seven or eight degrees 
hichor. The tides is calculated, if they he 
the same at Ouodth as here, and if (what an 



25 

important if is this) I can leave here next week 
on Friday or Saturday, and have a better pas- 
sage than you had, before sunset on I'uesday 
tomorrow fortnight I shall embrace you all. 

Good night. 

Capt. Rogers, when I called to inquire for 
your raspberries, told me you had gone up 
the river on Tuesday. lie is (juite enam- 
ored of Emma, who was brought to my mind 
a few minutes ago by turning over a page 
in one of our Great J^edgers at the Savings 
Bank, when the name of Robert Barnes, fel- 
low fine, popped up. But the young scholar 
has, 1 hope, learned some more valuable stories 
than that, among her mischievous requisitions. 
Whether this bracing cold weather will pro- 
duce much effect on my looks, is uncertain, 
but it need not be for the better. Out of re- 
gard to you, I have continued in excellent 
health, never so good, and people exclaim at 
me, as having grown fat by being an Alder- 
man. You will not be ashamed of me, I hope, 
as looking less intellectual than may be proper; 
but unless y(m have gained something, it is 
poor encouragement for going to the country 
again. Being rather uncomfortably cool, I 



26 

took a walk between 12 and i o'clock to see 
the darling Harriet. She has many indistinct 
ideas of you all; but, when asked where mother 
is, she says coming to kiss Hally. When her 
father goes away, she will so strongly remem- 
ber him, as to be able to revive her recollection 
of those he goes to bring home. One week 
more will enable me to advertise you of my in- 
tended passage, until which, my dear wife, keep 
in remembrance 

Your devoted 

J AS. Savage. 

About 1828 r 
August 23RD. 
[Emma's dictation.] 

Tell mother that I am a good girl, that I 
send my love to her, and that I like to stay here, 
and don't want to come home, and that I want 
her to come and see me, and I want father to 
come and Mary and Eliza and Harriet, and I 
want to see Miss Goodenow.* Harriet would 
be delighted to come and see the flowers, would 
not she Emma 

Savage. 

The above is as nearly the words of the lively 
little girl as the rapidity of her prattle will allow 

* The nurse. 



27 

me to catch, and they probably describe her 
state of mind as well as it can be expected. 
At the close of the first day, she sighed and said 
as Mr. G. came in "I want to see my father" 
but when he spread his arms, she sprung into 
them and enjoyed the frolic as usual. She is 
very hearty and we have as yet made no prog- 
ress in spoiling her, so that I begin to hope 
you will not repent of having trusted her with 
us. Give my love to your sweet wife and be- 
lieve me affectionately yrs 

E. G. Gardiner. 



I have more than once regretted that when 
you were here I did not more earnestly rec- 
ommend our dear boy to your kindness. He 
has just arrived at that period of life when the 
mind awakes to reflection, and appalled at the 
labour to be performed, is too apt to be diffi- 
dent of its own powers. I am well aware, 
that every man must work his own way out of 
this gloomy shadow but we can most of us 
recollect the effect of an expression of hope 
and confidence from some one to whom we 
looked with respect. 

Again adieu. 



28 

Tuesday Evening, 9 August, 1831. 

To HIS Wife. 

My dear Wife, — After you left me on Satur- 
day, I had my breakfast speedily, and then found 
such an abundance of time on my hands, and 
such an agreeable state of the thermometer, 
that I walked out to Roxbury street, which is 
a feat not equalled by me this year, except that 
cool afternoon, when I walked most of the way 
to and from Cambridge. We had a moder- 
ate time enough at club at Dr. Hayward's. 
On Sunday I passed most of my time, the church 
hours excepted, at home, but from the Post 
office at sunset walked home with Mr. Hale, 
who had just then arrived from his eight days 
excursion to view railroads in New York and 
New Jersey. At his house I spent an hour. 
Yesterday, though the brisk Northeast wind 
in the morning piped all hands for foul weather 
to come before long, yet as I could not be sure 
of leisure again this week, I went to Nahant. 
Before we got more than halfway, it begun to 
be apparent, that we made slow progress, for 
the sea had got up with as much wroth as the 
state of the tide in the narrow bounds would 
allow, the tide, wind and drift of the sea being 
so strong against us, and the steam boat rock- 



29 

ing about like an egg shell. Some ladies and 
more than one male creature were overcome 
by the agitation so that their stomachs would 
not be quiet. Our voyage lasted an hour and 
fifty minutes, though the proper time is only 
five to ten minutes over an hour. Of course 
there was too great expense of power and too 
little temptation for passengers. Indeed they 
had not expected me at the Peninsula on the 
account of such boisterous weather. But I 
enjoyed the excursion much before landings 
and more after. Exercise, pretty violent, in 
scrambling over rocks, walking uphill and down 
dale, was useful to keep me warm, and the vio- 
lent dashing of the waves was compensation 
for the exertion to get the most forward posi- 
tions for the sight. The boat returned in a 
few minutes to Boston, and it was announced 
that her two other trips each way must be 
postponed to more favorable weather. So I 
hired a chaise to bring me to the Lynn Hotel, 
and there found a Salem stage coach to forward 
me home. But my object was as well gained, 
of seeing Harriet, as if I had reached Nahant 
three quarters of an hour earlier, and had left 
two hours later. She looks like the very queen 
of health, if there be such a personage. Her 



30 

face is not imbrowned, but filled out, and her 
cheeks are as round and as hard as a Novem- 
ber russet. She did not wish to come home 
with me, but enjoys her society and her occu- 
pations mightily. Usually she does not get 
quite so severe exercise as she had to keep up 
with Mary £.* and myself over the rugged cliffs. 
But of society there is abundance in the house, 
and in the next house, distant about as far as 
from our front door to Dr. Fisher's, say two 
Barrett girls, granddaughters of Mr. John 
Dorr, young Froding and his cousin Miss Chan- 
ning. Miss Marrett, Miss Otis, James' daughter, 
&c., &c. 

Thursday Morning. 
I forgot to mention, that, on Monday morn- 
ing, calling to look at the progress of the house 
building for you,t it was told me, that on Sat- 
urday the well gave out, and the pump would 
deliver no water. On examination it seemed, 
the quicksand had been sucked in through the 
stones and up the bottom. So for want of 
having inserted a wooden curb behind the 
stones, the brickwork must now be taken up 
and a curb be driven down to exclude the sand. 

* Daughter of Wm. Savage with whom Harriet was staying. 
1 1 Temple Place. 



31 

Such a thing occurred at one of the front 
houses. It is some consolation, that if thirty 
or forty dollars will be now the extra cost of 
getting the well to perfection, the character 
of the soil will be always likely to ensure very 
fine water. 

Yesterday afternoon, while I was absent, a 
Miss Turner and Mr. Somebody, whose name 
Goodnow gave me but I have lost, called with 
a letter from your cousin Mary Burrill. Doubt- 
ing whether the letter might not contain some 
request for service to be rendered here in your 
absence, but which might as well be done by 
some other person, I have opened it. But 
there is nothing of urgent interest in it, and,, 
as the French proverb has it, sentiments of 
friendship will keep, it is reserved for your return. 

Whether your letter from Quoddy was written 
after Genl. Cooper with the wife* and daughter 
reached there, I know not; but their passage 
was just as long as I indicated, the packet hav- 
ing got there on Monday morning. 

Before noon the Council was adjourned, 
and so I am free to go frolicking. I have noth- 
ing more to say, but that I am, as ever, wholly 
yours Jas. Savage. 

Evening 7 o'clock. 

♦Sister of Mr. Savage. 



32 

Boston. 
Monday Evening, 26 August, 1831. 

To HIS Wife at Brooklyn, N.Y. 

My dear Wife, — I wrote you a very few words, 
incoherent enough, yesterday morning in five 
minutes that I. R. Chadbourne gave us before 
going off for Providence. Mary too wrote at 
same time with a pencil. He is detained by 
business at Providence until tomorrow, so that 
you will not hear from us until Wednesday. 

Mary laments our loneliness more even than 
I do, because mine is relieved by the out of 
door operations as usual. But tomorrow we 
may hope for the company of Abby Gay, 
which will be a great deal to her, though little 
to me. Next day will be commencement at 
Cambridge and the following day the interest- 
ing P. B. K. celebration, both of which I shall 
enjoy, if we are blessed with rain to lay the 
dust, and not otherwise. Yesterday and today 
have been warm enough, the most comfortable 
since our return from New Hampshire. If 
tomorrow be equally warm, as tonight prom- 
ises it will be, we must gain a thunder shower. 
On Saturday evening the club will be with me. 
"The Wednesday night" will not require your 
presence under four weeks, and long before 



33 

that, you will be eager to come home, if Eliza 
is not. 

Now if this be too soon, do not, I charge you, 
hurry on; because I can come for you well 
enough, when you say the word, though it 
would be desirable for me to leave on return 
in the afternoon of the same day I should 
reach. Good night. 

You had, I see by the papers, a grand show 
at Brooklyn on Saturday evening, happily so 
early, that the fire, which Mary's geography 
assures us was not uncomfortably near, could 
not alarm you. 

The clock has struck eleven, and I bid you 
good night. 

Last evening's club was at Dr. Hayward's, 
where Dr. Bigelow gave us many particulars 
of his rapid excursions in England, France, 
Italy going and returning, and finally visiting 
Scotland. Such a tour would not suit me. 
Every thing beyond Great Britain, had I a full 
year to spend, should gladly be given up, to 
enjoy the quiet, sober, leisurely visit and ex- 
amination of objects of profound associated 
interest, with which our acquaintance seems 



34 

to be intimate. He rode by Abbotsford in 
the stage coach. 

Probably I shall know no other opportunity 
of writing to New York for some days, and cer- 
tainly shall expect to get a letter from you before 
attempting it. I embrace my dear wife heartily 
as ever and with the blessing of Govr. Winthrop* 
doubled upon you this night bid farewell from 
yours Jas. Savage. 

Thursday Night. 

Liverpool, 9 May, 1842. 
To HIS Wife. 

My dear Wife, — Dearer than ever by the 
nearly three thousand miles that separate us, 
we reached this port before noon today, hav- 
ing, had probably, the pleasantest passage 
taking its shortness, its accommodations, its 
general state of sky, its prevalent fair winds, 
with the main ingredient, that outweighs all 
others, the company that enjoyed them, into 
a general reckoning. We therefore passed 
less than nineteen days in the ship, including 
the steamer at each harbour for taking up and 
getting down the passengers and their lug- 

* At this time, Mr. Savage was occupied in editing Winthrop's History 
of Massachusetts Bay. 



35 

gage. Of these passengers it is indispensable, 
that you should have some account, for among 
six ladies and twelve gentlemen in the cabin, 
no greater variety of qualifications and desire 
to be agreeable in one way or another could 
ever be found. But above all, taller, more 
animated and more constantly thinking of the 
general gratification, than any other, was the 
noble spirited, hilarious captain. But in this 
hour of going to bed, with you at this instant 
seven almost, in our Longitude eleven and a 
quarter hours past noon, my delightful recol- 
lections and my sombre thoughts after being 
left alone, wholly, in my Hotel, are not to be 
treated of by an unfeeling pen. Good night. 

Tuesday, 10 May. It is too late, my dear, 
to give you picture gallery, for now, wanting 
only a quarter of eleven, after dining at Mr. 
Gair's, who with his wife go to London to- 
morrow, I called to take a parting with Dr. 
Robertson and his three daughters, who em- 
barked this evening soon after nine in an iron 
steam ship for Glasgow. 

This morning I wrote to London in answer 
to one of two letters found lying here for me 
from friends of Ticknor, and tomorrow hope 
to show equal politeness to the other. This 



36 

morning also I called to pay my devoirs to 
Lady Nesbit, and also deliver to Mr. Rath- 
bone the parcel with v^hich Dr. W. E. Chan- 
ning betrusted me, as well as a letter from Mrs. 
Farrar. I also made a beginning of investi- 
gation at the Athenaeum in a rare work not 
to be obtained in our country. 

Wednesday mornings 1 1. Now the images 
are somewhat indistinct of the companions of 
the voyage, when brought all into one group, 
at least the prominency of one or another must 
throw others into a shade. So without any 
formality of arrangement, let the names be 
called, and the parties pass on. First, then, 
as her name stands alone. Lady Nesbit, but 
she brings her niece Miss Wilson, who calls 
the senior sometimes mother, sometimes aunt. 
Lady N. is a real lady and reminds me of Mrs. 
Lawrence from her softness of speech, and 
bodily infirmity. She was able to come to 
dinner every day, being an excellent sea going 
woman, yet not rising early enough to make 
her toilet before breakfast, in very pleasant 
weather, also, glad to get sunshine and air on 
deck, but from weakness in the ancles requir- 
ing assistance. I gained a favorable opinion 
with her in the harbour of New York by lend- 



37 

ing her a hand in passing from the steamboat 
to our ship. She was an Alston, sister to wife 
of a Govr. Wilson of South Carolina, who was 
father of this niece, and is a kind hearted lady, 
good for fifty five years, not active minded, 
but intelligent, polished by society, and shrewd 
in observation. Her estate is near Kirkcud- 
bright (remember that this horrid looking word 
is sweetly pronounced, Kircoohree) and there 
Miss W., who was born in S. C, has with her 
resided most of their days. 2. Miss W. is an 
intelligent lady, almost, she told me, twenty 
eight years old, of course knowing something 
of the matters that provide dignity and con- 
tentment for old maids, having no airs of sen- 
timental growth, quiet in her superiority of 
manners, and not squeamishly alarmed at 
sight of man or sound of his voice. In the 
seating at our table. Lady N. was first on the 
Captain's right, her niece next, your husband 
third. Next was Mr. Thos. Wood, an English 
scholar, bred at Cambridge, had orders in the 
church and curacy in Worcestershire. However, 
his dissatisfaction with the manner in which 
religious arguments were handled, and (I fear) 
with the results, (for he seems skeptically in- 
clined,) drove him to forego his profession, 



38 

and he lives on his estate a few miles from 
London, sympathzing, but in no decided 
measures, with the views of radical reformers. 
He is probably forty years old, seemed early 
to confine his attentions to Miss Wilson, and 
consequently in some degree to her aunt, but 
took more kindly to me than to any other pas- 
senger after those two ladies. He read much 
aloud to Miss W. and it is no ways unlikely, 
that the reader and hearer will be together 
much hereafter. He had come to Boston in 
the steamer late last autumn in a tempestuous 
passage, passed quickly as possible to the 
mining region of Georgia or S. C. where his 
friends near London had an interest to be 
looked after, thought favorably of few things 
in the South, and regretted he had enjoyed 
no opportunity of seeing our parts of the land. 
The evening before embarking, he told me, he 
went with an acquaintance at N. Y. to a small 
party, where Miss Robbins* lighted on him 
with her learned speech, and congratulated 
him that he was to be in the same ship with 
me. We had some literary fellowship, and he 
would be a pleasant man, had he been married 
earlier, or felt a better regard for Christianity. 

* Miss Eliza Robbins of Cambridge. 



39 

5- is Mr. Catlin of Hartford, a merchant of 
some pretensions to general intelligence, suf- 
fering every hour with sickness of the sea, 
though the stoutest man on board, and not able 
to come more than six or eight times to break- 
fast, lunch, dinner, or tea, but leaving a wife 
and three children at home in the house, which 
was once that of Mr. Sigourney. You may 
recollect the nonsense about the loss of the 
place, where the beautiful poetry was com- 
posed, which raised so much unnecessary 
sympathy four or five years since. 6. Mrs. 
Taylor, a very interesting English widow, with 
four children, all boys, of whom the three 
youngest attend her, the smallest very closely, as 
you must suppose, being two days short of eight 
weeks old, when we sailed. She lost her husband 
last autumn or summer, had not sufficient means 
to employ a servant, but hoped to find at her 
mother's in London abundance, had evi- 
dently been always nursed in luxury, and was 
wonderfully light hearted. Her stateroom being 
next to mine, and I the only gentleman, who 
was alone in the enjoyment of that delight, I 
had a fair share of the play with her boys, 
whom I liked inversely to their ages. 7. Mr. 
Lambert, an admirable specimen of Irish good 



40 

breeding, not himself highly instructed, but 
having good associations with learning, ex. gr. 
a brother is a lawyer in Dublin, a sister was 
married to a nobleman, and since better mar- 
ried to a gentleman in the same city. He has 
lived many years in Georgia, and Charleston, 
S. C. to which he will soon return. He was 
always attentive to Mrs. T. and some on board 
ship were benevolent enough to believe she 
had designs on him, or he thoughts of her. 8. 
Mr. Newbery, a gentleman, born at Gibraltar, 
of course English, but having seen much of 
Spain, easily became a Mexican, having his 
establishment at Guadalaxara, in which coun- 
try he was married, but has been a widower 
some years, having a son eight years old in 
this place at school, whom yesterday he was 
happy to find in excellent condition and to 
leave so, hurrying off to Italy to see a brother. 
His Mexican name, added to the English, is 
Boschette, and with his agreeable conversa- 
tion and exceedingly mild manners I was more 
in communion than with any other gentleman 
on board. Next him, in strong political con- 
trast, was a Texan, attached to the Commis- 
sioner, of whom wait for the picture, as it be- 
longs to the opposite side of the table. This 



41 

Secretary is a man of less agreeable manners, 
but of very abundant information, born in 
England, but of French extract, named Toulon, 
or something of that sound, had lived as a 
shopkeeper in Montreal, and feeling like a 
citizen of the world, became an Editor of one 
of the mischief making journals in that turbu- 
lent country, to which he hopes to return be- 
fore the next election in Sept. He played a game 
of whist well, and (except for his cause) was 
not at all disagreeable, even to his next plate, 
the Mexican. lo. Mr. Sherriff, from upper 
Canada, and near forty, an uncouth Scotch- 
man, son of that gentleman on the other side 
of the board. He had been twenty years ago 
apprenticed to a ship builder at Glasgow or 
Leith, and is a most kind hearted man, willingly 
assenting to request from Miss Georgiana to 
exercise his violin, and even in singing, but 
showing more heartiness than skill in either 
exercise. Having finished our side of the table, 
let us postpone the residue for tomorrow. Yet 
before going to bed, I should say, that the 
Great Western arrived early today, and at 
breakfast I had a New York paper of 28 ulto. 
Went to see the Parnells, who are at the Adelphi, 
four or five rods off, the most splendid Hotel, 



42 

where also are Lady N. and Miss W. dined with 
the P's who hurry away in a shower to embark 
at half past six in the Mail Steamer for Dublin. 
So good night again. 

Thursday 12. First on the Captain's left 
is Miss Georgiana, to me the most agreeable 
object of the companions of the voyage. She 
is youngest daughter of Dr. R. aged 14, going 
from school in Montreal, where she was born, 
to some school in Edinboro', yet undetermined. 
Intelligence beyond most girls of 18, yet simple 
as one of 10, full of fun, yet often so concealing 
her wit under sobriety of expression or manner, 
as to escape careless observation, she made 
conversation with any one in happy profusion, 
especially asking all sorts of questions, and re- 
membering the answers, tormenting her sisters 
that had more reserve in their carriage or less con- 
geniality except for one or another companion. 
She seized right hold on my heart, the third day 
out, if not the second, by asking me if I would 
come and see her at Edinboro, where she ex- 
pects to be left alone. I had been showing 
her some sympathy, as she was getting up from 
the short sickness, encouraging her to walk by 
giving an arm, picking up books for her, 
repeating poetry, running up and down from 



43 

deck to cabin, as I did for every other lady, 
and when she grew well enough to use her 
needle, she worked a souvenir for me to put in 
the Road book for Scotland, that I had lent her 
for an hour or two. If she lives, and her health 
may improve, though now delicate from grow- 
ing too fast, it is not one man in a hundred that 
will be worthy of her. 2. William Robertson, 
M.D., Professor of Surgery, &c., &c., an in- 
valid. Advice of friends and acquaintance led 
to this experiment for restoration. He is very 
tender hearted, has kindly visited almost daily 
the steerage passengers (45 in number) most 
of whom are Scotch or Irish, and raised our 
sensibility about the situation of a man, whose 
arm had some months before been broken and 
not well healed. He said the man would die, 
one day, unless the arm were taken off, myself 
to assist at the operation, if Dr. Smith patron- 
ized the experiment. Luckily it was found, 
that the man was in a delirium, and too low 
to bear amputation without loss of life, so he 
was allowed to get well, and I did not cut off 
his arm. 3. Miss Maria, a pretty quiet girl, 
about 20 or 22, not of great assumption of any 
sort, whom some thought the Capt. felt a ten- 
derness for; and so tattle went around for a 



44 

season, that she was for blood and could not 
demean herself so low. I confess she seemed 
to me above such nonsense, but not sufficiently 
interested in any thing but her father. Next 
her was Daniel Seymour, of New York, the 
most interesting of the male passengers, thought, 
on coming on shipboard, to be not likely to 
live a week. He was unable to walk without 
leaning on his cousin Dr. Smith, and for two 
days showed the most wretched bag of bones, 
and sunken jaws and prominent eyes I ever 
saw. In a week the skin peeled off from his 
face, from sitting in the sun, and he began to 
mend, was able to play upon a beefsteak, 
showed unbounded knowledge of most sciences, 
especially languages, of which he was master 
of several living ones, adequate in Greek and 
Latin, stored with English Literature and po- 
litical history, played a good hand at whist, 
and promised, had not our passage been too 
short, to become cheerful. 5. Dr. Ashbel 
Smith, born in N. Carolina, studied medi- 
cine and surgery in Paris, walked the 
hospital in London, lived in Tennessee, and 
is now a Commissioner for Texas, clothed with 
powers, I suppose, to treat for some purpose 
or other. He is a little ostentatious of his Greek 



45 

and Latin, and therefore I imagine has not 
much, more so of his professional knowledge, 
but that forbids a similar conclusion, has seen 
much of the wild sports and the wilder pas- 
sions of the West, received a very slight wound 
in the cause of his new built country, and will 
be a great manager of affairs, if heaven permit 
the congregation of ragamuffins to prosper. 
He is admirably suited to advance himself with 
ladies, as he can pour out the small talk and 
has acquaintance with all the petty circum- 
stances of society coming out from morning 
to night. Of his age I should make the guess 
at about 40, but he has never married, and has 
never lived but in a warm climate for the last 
fifteen years, so that he may be more worn 
than advanced. No. 7. The Chaplain may 
be 29 to 34 years old, but green as a boy of 20, 
yet acknowledges himself a widower. It is 
a most difficult part to fill, I doubt not, for he 
was grand enough in his services, the two 
Sundays that the weather permitted us, with 
one accord, to make our common supplica- 
tions; but one moment he seemed afraid to 
partake in a game of cards, and another time 
played at all fours. He began in the harmless 
blindman's bluff, and got out, when the first 



46 

body was caught. Of course he had not the 
degree of regard from the passengers, that it 
would be agreeable to show, and one and another 
seemed to take delight in cutting out Miss 
Sophia Helen from under his guns. His 
name is Jackson. No. 8 is the senior SherriflF, 
a solid business man, not apt to play in any 
thing, very thoroughly Scotch, slightly diluted 
with more than 20 years residence in Canada, 
in whose service he goes to London to obtain 
encouragement for some internal improve- 
ment. Perhaps his age is 65, yet his feeble 
health permitted him not to claim so high 
station as he should have had. His modesty 
perhaps kept him back from all but two or 
three rubbers at whist. No. 9 is Mr. Kimm 
from St. Louis, Missouri, a German trader, 
w^ho read the whole time, except at meals, 
and a few occasional snatches of sunshine on 
deck. He commenced once in his native lan- 
guage with Mr. Seymour, spoke perhaps two 
sentences with one or two others, and, during 
the voyage, twenty with me. Here is the end; 
but less than a quarter of this day's work was 
written then, for I had to go to dine at Green 
Bank, 3 miles off, with Mr. Rathbone, and 
some ladies and gentlemen, the party having 



47 

been prepared for Revd. Mr. Dall from Mobile. 
The residue was done on Friday, partly be- 
fore, partly after a ride 6 miles out to Gatacre 
to visit Revd. Mr. Shepheard, an aged scholar, 
with a very interesting adopted daughter. Miss 
Joyce. Country, at a mile distance from 
Liverpool begins to look beautiful and some- 
times rich. It is not that I care to write a 
Journal in my letter which is to be thrown on 
paper for Emma for another day, nor that you 
should be unduly impressed with my remem- 
brance of you and the sweet ones around you; 
but really to relieve the sad, and numerous 
hours are the sad ones, when my loneliness 
comes over me as with a crush of falling tower. 
What may it be after leaving Liverpool, where 
I seem almost to have domesticated myself? 
But the real difference will be, that after get- 
ting away from this place, where I have waited, 
chiefly, to get the first letters from you, I may 
feel, that something is over, now nothing is. 
I shall go to London in shorter time for stop- 
ping here, because I can so confidently feel, 
that little is to be got out of London. This 
Saturday I had a call of near two hours and a 
half on Revd. Mr. Johns, minister to the Poor, 
with a noble wife. 



48 

Sunday, I have attended service three times 
today, making up for failure last Sunday in 
the Irish Channel. Mr. Dall, who began as 
a minister to the poor at St. Louis (Missouri) 
and has a year and a half preached to the be- 
nighted at Mobile, officiated at Revd. Mr. 
Thom's this morning, and at Revd. Mr. Mar- 
tineau's this evening. Intervening service, at 
Mr. Thom's, v^as by Revd. Mr. Roberts. I 
am tolerably well pleased with Liverpool, 
but perhaps this expression arises from my 
hearing that Britannia was telegraphed this 
afternoon from 70 miles distance, though she 
will not be here before I go to bed. My soli- 
tude is painful, but company of one, two, or 
three English good people I have been much 
gratified with. Every thing has gone right 
with me, since leaving you, except breaking 
my tooth brush on the second day's voyage. 
Tomorrow morning I hope to see John Hillard 
and if not, shall obtain your letters. Good 
night. The blessing of heaven on you, and 
our dear children. I shall never be so long 
separated from you all again. Much do I 
think, also, of my dear brother William in his 
affliction; but it has not been in my power to 
undertake to write him a letter in his loneli- 



49 

ness of heart. Gushing and Molly come over 
me frequently, and I make love to any little 
child I see, for the young one's sake. I shall 
expect to leave this place tomorrow afternoon, 
yet v^ill speak more positively before sealing 
this budget, of which some part, of no conse- 
quence, is for Dr. Pierce. You will, of course, 
be cautious about a general communication 
of this letter, for I have written, as if I were 
talking with you, and something fit to tell you 
might better not be published from the house 
top. 

Mondayy 1 6 May. You must infer, though 
I did not say any thing, that my voyage was, as 
anticipated. I sang and danced the whole 
way over the ocean, lost no breakfast, lunch, 
dinner, or tea, except that the parting meal 
in Liverpool outer harbour was too slight, 
from the natural sensibility that parting never 
to meet again with such pleasant companions 
must perforce have produced. 

I saw Mr. J. R. Bracket, before breakfast. 
He goes at 9 a.m. to London. After break- 
fast I call at Barings, get my letter, saw half 
a minute Mr. Kendall, learn nothing, but 
that you remained at New York 30 Apr, and 
that John will probably come in Caledonia. 



50 

Please let all remember, that one letter is a 
letter, however large, and postage is same. 
So I pay a dollar and a half this morning, 
for what might be only a quarter or two at 
most. 

I am off in half an hour after noon for Ches- 
ter, thence tomorrow to Shrewsbury probably. 
Everywhere I am 

Yours 

Jas. Savage. 



Chester, i6 May, 1842. 
To Judge Luther Stearns Gushing. 

Dear Gushing, — I was delighted this fore- 
noon with receipt of your hand writing of 30 
ulto. No. I and thank you much for all it con- 
tained. Almost every thing is interesting to 
one who so thoroughly partakes of all objects 
of great, or petty interest, at home, as I do. 

Crossing the Mersey, I found, on its South- 
ern Bank, railroad to bring me here in 40 min- 
utes, and have quietly seated myself to read 
the letters. It is too warm (what do you think 
of that for the west coast of England .?) to be 



51 

moving about in the sun to see what may be 
worth casting a glance at in this ancient, walled 
city. Liverpool is all new, two hundred years 
ago was little bigger than our Chelsea now, 
and aristocratic Chester could swallow its in- 
habitants without distortion of the waists of the 
lieges. You must not expect me to succeed 
in my undertaking to one quarter of our anti- 
cipations before my departure. Nothing hardly 
will be gained, but the knowledge of the barren- 
ness before reaching London. But you must 
make my tenderest acknowledgments to Judge 
Davis, who writes almost as if he doubted 
about ever seeing me again. What a noble 
hearted, affectionate man! and he shall have 
some thing from me in September, if it be only 
to cry, as the old Hebrew, the glory is departed, 
Ichabod! 

As my wife will show you all my letters, 
you must reciprocate, for it would be impossible 
for me to write to all; and on my part I mean 
not to be complaining of failure on her part 
or yours, so that a comprehensive parcel comes 
from either. I care little about business, ex- 
cept * positively affecting me, as what you re- 

* It positively would be quite interesting to know the result of sale of the 
house adjoining mine. Who bought, what price ? Of deaths, nearly all 



52 

ceive, or pay, or do, for me. But how can the 
solitary position of my perambulation, distant 
from any one I ever saw before, or shall see 
again after an hour, be relieved by a close 
conversation put on paper by her or you ? Never 
having seen before, is nothing, if the strangers 
are to grow up together for a week or two. No 
face in the hundred and one on board the New 
York had ever crossed my eyes before 20 April, 
except the Captain, and he but a half minute 
on i6th. Yet to him, and to three, or four, 
or five, or six, or seven, or eight, others I grew 
so bound by almost adamantine ties, that 
had our voyage been of nineteen months, in- 
stead of as many days, on my part it would 
have seemed delightful. Let us break oir this 
sentimental turn, and go out of my cham- 
ber. 

Bristol, 25 May. 

What the Queen of Sheba said of Solomon 
is nothing. She referred to report, I to imagi- 

of persons I have known must be strongly impressive. Emma mentions 
young Lothrop Motley; but of Aunt Otis a casual newspaper informed me, 
and P. Parker mentioned the latest, as that of Wm. Boardman. T. B. 
Curtis; Esqr. (whom please thank in my name), sent me the Hale's Daily 
Advertiser of 30 containing the sad story of the Farm School boys, and 
details of a large fire, that was also referred to by my inestimable friend. 
Judge Davis. I see the reward $1000. oflFered. In summer time I have 
little fear of incendiaries. 



53 

nation; and ardent as had been my anticipa- 
tion of heartiness in the welcome and hospitality 
that some Englishman might show me, when 
safely introduced, or patronized by an old ac- 
quaintance; here is my evidence of hope being 
far out-run by enjoyment. Let me, however, 
take the usual sequence of time to give you 
memoranda of my motives, and emotions 
before coming at a jump from the date on 
other page to this nine days later. Coming 
to Chester I saw little, of course, for the rail- 
way is apt to keep one's attention inside of the 
car, and the eye gets no profit by shooting be- 
yond. But on 17th I saw C. to much advan- 
tage, under the guidance of Revd. James Fol- 
liott, to whom a letter from Mrs. King, wife 
of the artist, introduced me. Pray cause this 
fact to be made known to her by her husband. 
He required me to breakfast with him, having 
late the preceding evening returned from the 
country, showed me the cathedral, the castle 
(here are live troops), the walls, only one other 
city in the kingdom retaining such a glorifica- 
tion, and after this, as the resolution was per- 
emptory, that I would go to Shrewsbury by 
2 P.M. coach, made me partake lunch of mut- 
ton chop, tart, wine, etc., instructed me to take 



54 

the best seat on the coach top for an extra six 
pence, and would not leave me until, mounted 
in my place at the office of the establishment, 
not his residence, nor my hotel, the four-in- 
hand whirled me away. 

Out of Wolverhampton I got early next 
morning by Railway, first since Chester, to 
Birmingham, where no stop was made, but 
hurry skurry on iron road to Gloucester, rain 
having fallen the night before, and the morn- 
ing, it was thought, sufficient to justify assump- 
tion of outside seats by myself and a pleasant 
young man, who had made talk in the car, on 
the coach for Bristol. Murder! out of four 
hours and a half, it rained almost four, and it 
cost me quite four at the Swan Inn, Commercial 
Room, to get into a tolerable state of warmth 
after tea before it would be safe to go to bed. 
Gratitude however should have been enough 
to make me comfortable, for the letters from 
London, written by John Kenyon, and others 
promised by him, were all that could be de- 
sired, more than could be expected. Tell 
Ticknor. One in particular is the cause of 
my having this satisfaction at this hour and 
place. 

Exeter 26. Revd. John Eagles had returned 



55 

from London, where he had visited Ticknor's 
friend, John Kenyon and by him was charged to 
the brim with kindness for me, (more, by token, 
he saw my note of acknowledgment from Liver- 
pool, saying I would be at Bristol on i8th 
though it grew to be late of the 20th when I 
reached it) and had a note for me at the Post 
Office, which it would be vain to attempt 
to characterize, and wretched weakness to 
transcribe. Suffice it to say, when on 21st I 
called to make due return for his benevolence, 
that it seemed impossible to accept in its literal 
import, he took possession of me, body, soul 
and goods, and kept me five days, until this 
26th he unwillingly parted with his authority 
by transferring me from his carriage to the 
railway car that brought me to Bridgenorth 
at noon, thence a coach, (confound the ever 
during rain) through Taunton and Honiton 
has brought me to this capital of Devon, where 
the Dean, and in several other towns the best 
of the clergy, are soliciting the favor of doing 
kindness to the President of the Mass. Hist. 
Soc. as they have found me out. This even- 
ing, too, I get a letter from Harriet L., John 
Hillard's wife, in answer to my jirst from Bris- 
tol last Sunday. But fatigue requires me to 



56 

go to bed before eleven. Mrs. Eagles has 
given me a parcel for Lucy. Good night. 



On 20th I have come to Totness, and sent 
my card, with compliments, enclosing also 
powerful (I presume, for it is sealed) letter of 
introduction "to the venerable Archdeacon 
Frowde," of whom all mouths are eloquent in 
praise, at the neighboring parsonage of Dar- 
lington. The style is important, because orders 
and degrees in this church have various ad- 
dresses (as you know that of Bishop, the Dean 
is "very reverend,") and surely when Milton 
says they "jar not with liberty," I may use 
them. My desire is to get up next Saturday 
to London to be at home, and rest by changing 
work. Then J. Hillard will give me my letters, 
some three days before which this must be 
closed. 

30 May, Totness. More over-flowing kind- 
ness from this dignitary, who, on receipt of my 
note, answered in very few words in writing, 
and sent off his boy with a chair to bring me 
to his house, without a nay say. So on Satur- 
day evening, just as he and his daughter had 
finished their tea, I joined at their table, passed 



57 

all Sunday with him, quiet, saw only one other 
house, that an ancient, baronial of five or six 
hundred years, partly decayed in very exten- 
sive, useless, apartments, showing a kitchen 
chimney as big as one side of our longer par- 
lor, and much higher, but partly rebuilt, and 
having beautiful gardens. I prefer the sim- 
plicity of those at the parsonage with which 
I was perfectly charmed. Four female, two 
male domestics, beside the boy, attend on the 
small family. The distance from this borough 
is short two miles. The situation of this place 
is very agreeable on the Dart, one of the pure 
streams of the country, here meeting tide. 

I June, evening at Honiton, having come a 
long distance, since ii a.m. at Plymouth. So 
now I am well on my gladsome way up to Lon- 
don, though it must not be very rapid for at 
Axminster, only 9 miles East (because now I 
change my returning course, that has been 
identical from Honiton to Plymouth with that 
travelled reversely last week) and at Dorches- 
ter on Thursday, and at Salisbury on Friday 
I must stop, either to acknowledge kindness 
or to gain information. You have before this 
had my letters, and yesterday at Plymouth by 



58 

London mail paper of Monday I saw news of 
the Caledonia reaching Lpool on Sunday. 
Some days ago I wrote to John's wife to desire 
letters to be stopped, as I should hope to be 
with her on Saturday evening. Of my wife, 
of your wife and family, of Eliza, of Emma, 
of Harriet, of Lucy, of the young soldier my 
desire is very great to get accounts and as John 
must have come, these accounts will be not 
only in Ms. I am charmed with the sight of 
Eng. as an agricult. country, the beauties of 
Devon have not been over-colored. I see no 
more destitution of any sort than in our own 
country. The extravagant attempt on the 
Queen's life, heard of this morning at Plymouth 
early must be insanity. Every thing of the 
government wears a good face, and such, after 
Congr. rises will be my expectation for our own. 

Yours, 

Jas. Savage. 



Dorchester, 2 June, 1842. 
To HIS Wife. 

My dear Wife, — Before this time of night 
you must have received the letter I left at Liver- 
pool for you, if indeed it did not reach you yes- 



59 

terday. So you see, how closely I calculate 
about you and your motions and occupations. 

3rd has brought me to Salisbury, and my 
passage is paid for the whole route to London 
tomorrow. But much as my delight is for this, 
my gratitude for unbounded attention must 
not slumber. All England, that I have yet 
visited with introductions to gentlemen, seems 
to have been laid under contribution in my 
favor. Yesterday morning I was, for a short 
time, down stricken, finding, on reaching Ax- 
minster, and sending my card to Revd. Wm. D. 
Conybeare, who had, on motion from John 
Kenyon, Esquire, written several letters for me, 
and one to me, that he had been three days ab- 
sent, and would not return before evening. 
Now at my next designed stopping place (Dor- 
chester) that I must reach that evening, hav- 
ing no letter, I had depended on my success 
in obtaining one at Axminster from my unseen 
friend. But his lady sent me word to come 
to breakfast, which I obeyed forthwith, found 
most hospitable reception, received a letter 
from her to Arthur H. Dyke Acland, Esqr. 
(son of Sir Thomas) at D., was made also, 
together with her husband's curate, to par- 



6o 



take early dinner, and in the afternoon pro- 
ceeded to D. with a gayer heart. Having sent 
to Mr. A. he called after I was gone to bed near 
eleven o'clock, called again at seven this morn- 
ing, before I was dressed, having thought only 
of necessity of taking coach for this city soon 
after lo. He made me go to his house to break- 
fast as soon as I could get ready, had morning 
prayers with visitors and domestics and chil- 
dren in a private chapel, took me to the church, 
the object of my desire, in which two hundred 
and thirty years before officiated John White, 
a true friend of New England, when she had 
hardly any other, gave me card to his father, 
and sent me forward rejoicing. He is about 
28 years of age, has 5 children, the only son 
born a few days ago. So we saw not mother 
of the three blessed girls that were in chapel, 
of whom only the oldest was seated at break- 
fast. Strawberries were on the table, but not 
quite so ripe as we love them. 

London, 7 June. 
How can I postpone any longer, my dear 
wife, telling you of and about this city and my 
movements. On'reaching J. H.'s house, an hour 
before dinner, Saturday afternoon, he and Harriet 
were heartily glad to see me, as you must know I 



6i 

was to cease to be wholly among utter strangers, 
besides the deHght of your letters, Cushing's 
and bro. Wms. One sad deduction I must 
make from the pleasure of reading your letter, 
that was in all other particulars exactly what 
I desired, mentioning all the details of every- 
body and thing that could interest me. . . . 
this evening to his Excellency, Mr. Everett's, 
tomorrow dine with the Vaughan's, Thursday, 
breakfast with Ticknor's friend, Kenyon, and 
calls enough to fill up the time till next 
week on Thursday, when I must dine 
with T's other friend Divert. My object, 
that ought to be always in my mind, can 
be advanced only casually. But now let 
me speak of what has been done here. On 
Sunday, of course, I went to church, in the 
evening, before dinner, spent an hour with 
Mrs. Richards * and her daughter Maria, who 
are very well. She tells me John is at Bath 
for renewal of his health after the trial of an 
Indian climate. A boy, with an attendant 
from Bengal, not a tiger, is with her. Henry 
has given up his theological plans, and gone a 
few weeks ago towards Calcutta by the short 

* Grandmother of Professor R. H. Richards of Massachusetts Institute 
of Technology. 



62 

route, has been heard from at Malta, and will 
be again by this mail, when the letters get on, 
no doubt, at Alexandria, perhaps Suez. Yes- 
terday I spent in finding improvement for my 
outward man, say by hat, gloves, stockings, 
hope of a tailor's labors, etc., and spent an hour 
or less with Miss Vaughan. To-day I have 
been to the British Museum, almost as over- 
powering in objects of antiquity as London 
itself in novelty. Capt. Wormeley, another 
friend of T's today binds me to dine with him 
on Friday. Yet I had strength enough to 
visit the mother of Mrs. Farrar, and pass an 
hour with her. Her sister, Mrs. Longston, 
from Jersey Isle, was present. 

Wednesday I laboured four hours at British 
Museum. On Friday from dinner table at 
Capt. Wormeley's, J. H. called for me in a cab 
to go to Prof. Faraday's last lecture for the 
season at Royal Inst. We saw ear of wheat 
in beautiful growth of this year from seed of 
last year's ripening from seed taken out of 
folds of cloth, wrapped round a mummy, from 
Egypt, uncertain whether two or three thousand 
years ago. Saturday found me again at 
breakfast, with larger company than on Thurs- 
day, at Mr. Kenyon; and as my charming Mr. 



63 

Engles (see letter to Gushing by last steamer) 
is to come into the city for some excursions 
this week with K. I must breakfast there 
again next Saturday. Here I meet Geo. Sum- 
ner, come from the continent early in the week. 
But at two o'clock, we three, J. H. and his wife 
and myself, go upon the grandest affair I shall 
have or see in Eng. The June Horticult. ex- 
hibition at Chiswick. There are but three in 
the year, May, June and July, and this is com- 
monly the most frequented. Crowded were 
the roads with vehicles of every sort, and many 
horsemen, of course nobody on foot, because 
the admission tickets were a crown each to those 
who had member's vouchers to justify their 
applying at the Soc. Rooms in the city, and 
two crowns at the gate. The heat was great, 
but dust worse, delay for setting down at the 
entrance worse of all. We alighted, after 
waiting half an hour to advance in the line, 
constantly advancing slower, when our cab was 
more than half a mile from the gate and poking 
through horses and carriage I said, after getting 
into the garden, adorned with wonderful flowers 
on many stations, and rich with various speci- 
mens of fruits, tempting as they were, I said I 
would not go through the service again for a 



64 

present of the Isle of Gr. Britain in fee. Un- 
certainty was the worse concomitant of the 
affair, first, should we ever get to the promised 
land, next should we be able to get home. 

James Savage. 



London, 25 June, 1842. 
To Judge Gushing. 

Dear Gushing^ — As a whole week has elapsed, 
since the last words were written to my wife, 
I can no longer refrain to hold some communi- 
cation with dear Boston. My days fly swifter 
than a weaver's shuttle, was a mode of lamen- 
tation for David, but not so much with me, as 
they are pleasurable, whisking too much from 
one thing to another, indeed, but such is un- 
avoidable London life. 

Much of my time has been given to the British 
Museum, where the superfluity of materials is 
so great that you are in danger of starving be- 
fore making choice of the requisite viand. 
Some hours were bestowed on Doctors Com- 
mons, and you may mention to either Judge 
Davis, or Revd. Alexr. Young, that I have 
exact copy, by my own collation, of Isaac 



65 

Johnson's (the founder of Boston sometimes 
called) last will, made about three weeks be- 
fore embarking with Govr. Winthrop. It costs 
money to get such things. 

It is almost surprising, how deficient are the 
materials of such information, as I desire. No- 
body thinks here of the probability of finding 
early registry in the parishes. For Snelling 
alone have I yet obtained any success. At 
Cambridge University, probably, the deficiency 
will be lamentable, as Prof. Smyth has pre- 
advertised me; and the Revd. Jos. Hunter, the 
most accomplished antiquary in all these parts 
who being employed in the Record office (mind 
the quantity) is ready next Monday to show 
me a list of persons permitted to embark at 
this port of London in 1635, (the only year 
known to have such muniment) assures me, 
that nothing is to be learned by me, except 
from printed books, as every thing has been so 
frequently rumpled over, that it is copied for 
the press or destroyed. My list of 1635 is, 
however, an exception, and he acknowledges, 
that by casualty there may turn up something, 
but none the more likely to be found by look- 
ing for it. He tells me, after paying my fee 
for admission, the entry is potential for a week 



66 

when you must pay again; but more curious 
still, he says, you are not permitted at the 
augmentation office (such is the title of his 
workshop) to take any transcript in writing. 
I may use my pencil, but not ink. The public 
seems not to have acquired its spirit from in- 
dividuals, every one of whom, that I see, is eager 
to encourage me, delighted to talk on my en- 
quiries, and especially prompt to request me 
to eat and drink. 

28 June. 
Yesterday I was engaged near five hours 
copying, with pencil, from the great rarity at 
the augmentation office, and after getting 
home from that workshop, which I did not 
leave until their hours for the day were ended, 
I sat down to put my work into ink, or a third 
of it at least before dressing to go to Govr. 
Everett's dinner party. Today I have finished 
the transcription of what I pencilled yester- 
day, stole time enough (two hours and a half) 
for a drive out to Hampstead to see Miss Aiken, 
whose conversation is full of spirit. She, like 
all others that meet me, says I can learn from 
books all that is to be learned, and refers me 
to books or repositories utterly barren. 



67 

Will Congress falsify my anticipation of 
making a proper tariff? Will they undo the 
distribution act? Will the country be forever 
cursed with the question of who shall be the 
next president, and all questions of policy and 
principle be made to whirl round on that pivot ? 

From Emma's letter I observe, that poor 
Miles has given up his school, and so my two 
elder daughters are in the wilderness. E. 
says mother thinks I should be pleased to have 
them under Folsom's care. Certainly there 
can be nothing better, and I hope no time will 
be lost in securing their admission for next 
quarter. 

4 July. 

You will observe, with pleasure, that the 
government here have commuted the sentence 
of death against Francis, the foolish youth, 
who discharged a pistol, loaded or not is un- 
certain with any thing but powder. Unhappily 
for the cause of good order, another prepos- 
terous attempt was made yesterday, while the 
royal party were driving to church just before 
noon. Such ridiculous attacks make people 
uneasy, and I fear the disposition to make an 
awful example may increase. Most people 



68 

disagreed with me about the execution of sen- 
tence against F. that could not, in my opinion, 
have been carried through with good policy. 

To my wife, your wife, Eliza, Emma, Har- 
riet, Lucy and Jamie make known, that I was 
never in better health in the first week of July 
in my life, but have been and shall continue, 
while in this Babylon, especially busy. I fin- 
ished on Saturday transcribing my lists of eleven 
hundred and fifty three names of persons, al- 
lowed, at the London Custom House, to pass 
to New England from Christmas 1634 to some 
day in Septr. of the next year; but you will 
naturally presume, that these are of parties 
to whom exception could not be taken, and do 
not include fiery puritans as the Lincolns and 
Cushings that embarked down in Norfolk, nor 
others of similar noses upturned against Archbp. 
Laud and his coadjutors. Indeed there were 
persons, I know very well, that got on board 
the ships that departed from London, by going 
down channel and at an outpost secured their 
transportation. 

I continue to receive admirable expressions 
of kindness from all persons to whom I apply 
for encouragement. Yet let not any body, on 
our side of the ocean, presume to expect any 



69 

information from this side, without severe in- 
quisition for it. All is forgotten here. This 
very volume, fol. . . . Ms. has been found in 
a different quarter of the city within three or 
four months, and it is thought that no similar 
one remains in any place. 

A note for J. A. Lowell I wish to go as soon 
as possible, and about ten days after I wish 
you to inquire of Wainwright at Savings Bank, 
how the Institution gets on, and whether he 
will send me, by private hand, to care of Coates 
& Co., No. 13 Bread Street, Cheapside, any 
copies of Report, unsealed. 

A note for S. G. Drake may go in no hurry. 
I do not wish him or any body else to set me 
any new stints. 

I would gladly fill up my paper more, but 
am obliged to break off to go down into the city. 

Let my brother and wife, and every other 
body that inquires know how truly I am, as 

ever 

Jas. Savage. 



London, 7 July, 1842. 
To HIS Wife. 

My dear Wife, — Having sent off on Monday 
4th Inst, a letter for Boston, it seems time to 



70 

begin again to let you know about me. I am 
almost tired of London, because my labours 
are attended with so little success. Yet it shall 
never be said of me, that my time was given 
to seeing sights, when it should have been oc- 
cupied with the real business that brought 
me here. Still, there are some accidental 
novelties that fall in my way, as I pass one, 
two or three miles out and home in pursuit 
of my antiquarian trifles. The most striking, 
and least agreeable, diversity from our New 
England habits is in the funerals. Nobody 
knows anything about an interment, but the 
relatives, and this may be reasonable enough; 
but think of the advertisements, or signs, 
put over shop doors, ^^ Funerals furnished*' 
or "Funerals performed/' which are very 
commonly to be read, as you walk the streets. 
Both phrases mean, I suppose, the same 
thing. 

You may let Judge Davis, or any of the 
learned, know, that Mr. Graham, who gained 
so much in our esteem by his History of Amer- 
ica, died last Sunday, suddenly, here in Lon- 
don. It was mentioned in the Times, news- 
paper yesterday. I was ignorant of his having 
come from France, or it would have been great 



71 

satisfaction to me to have obtained an intro- 
duction to him. 

I believe that no account has been given by 
me of the residence of our nephew here, and 
as I mean next v^eek to go dov^n (every direc- 
tion, East, West, North or South from London 
is down) to Cambridge it may as well be 
done now. The street is pretty quiet no 
omnibus passing near it, and very few carts, 
plenty of carriages, especially to stop at 
the next door, the Queen's hairdresser, where 
many of the ladies if haut ton must present 
themselves for the proper service of M. Isadore. 
But you will care less for all this, than what I 
can tell of the indwellers; and most of these 
you know too well for my taking up the task. 

Now for the baby, which must not complain 
of being postponed. She is of the most com- 
fortable, healthy and forward thing of the sort, 
has had one tooth almost four weeks, and un- 
doubted indications of the neighboring one 
coming into line very soon. She loves very 
much to step and jump and will, of course, soon 
exhibit the accomplishment of walking, or 
rather running, for she will not be patient enough 



72 

to walk. What charms me is, her hilarity, 
opening her mouth about double what any full 
grown lady in her wildest laugh would dare. 
So we are close friends, even father is not equal 
to me for fun with her; but then Kate* knows 
her interest unites with duty in reverencing 

him above me. 

Cambridge, 13TH. 
I have worked gloriously at the Registry of 
the University yesterday and today, have found 
some things not before known, and have failed 
of extending my information so far as would 
have been desirable. But I have had great 
satisfaction in my visit in the quiet of the va- 
cation, deepened by the repose of every body 
and thing after the great excitement, crowd 
and ceremony of the Installation of his Grace, 
the Duke of Northumberland, as Chancellor 
of this renowned seat of the Muses, last week. 
Of course I am charmed with the account, in 
which all voices concur, of the happy exhibi- 
tion made by Mr. Everett, our Ambassador, 
on the occasion. The Master of Emanuel, 
Vice Chancellor of the University, showed me 
from the Duke a communication from Mr. E. 
relative to the indebtedness of our country to 

* Eldest child of John Hillard. 



73 

this Institution of Cambridge, and particu- 
larly to Emanuel College, the mother of John 
Harvard, founder of the blessed University at 
our Cambridge. It was written with his usual 
felicity. I was dined yesterday and the day 
before at the table of Peter House, sitting on 
the right hand of good old Professor Smyth, 
with excellent entertainment, physical and in- 
tellectual. But it has happened to me to see 
nearly the last of the noble hearted scholar, 
though my company evidently renovated him 
from the occasion of bringing up the memory of 
Ticknor, his wife and especially his daughter. 
He shook off his ailment, and partially reduced 
his deafness. 

London, i6th. 

I would have written much of the beauty of 
the country through which our road, both rail 
and coach, divided in nearly equal halves, led, 
part in Essex, part in Middlesex and the residue 
in the shire of Cambridge, but, excepting in 
the neighborhood of Waltham and Chester- 
ford, close to which latter is the splendid seat 
of Lord Braybrook, which the coach passes 
within three hundred yards of, it is generally 
too flat for the beauty to be observable unless 
well clothed by cultivation. I am to go today 



74 

down on the Birmingham Railway a short 
distance, say i8 miles, to be taken up by Mr. 
Rotch, brother of Mrs. Farrar, to be trans- 
ported to St. Albans. So I break off. 

I'jth. My enjoyment was very high yester- 
day. The air like the best of our early June, 
and sky perfectly clear, country diversified by 
hill and dale, like our most exquisite Brook- 
line and Newton, not crowded with houses, 
except at the town of St. Albans, about a dozen 
miles from the station at which I stopped before 
noon, and sixteen miles from the Harrow sta- 
tion, six miles nearer London, in a decent dis- 
tance of less than one mile from which is the 
residence, a very agreeable cottage, of Mr. 
Rotch. Here I saw gold fish in a pond, and 
rare ducks. Barnacle geese, hares, rabbits, and 
several beautifully spotted deer, some pretty 
dogs and a handsome (if possible) goat, all 
matters of divertisement for his wife, while he 
is occupied at his office in town. They are 
all very gentle, come to call, and know the kind 
attention of owners and servants. Mr. Farrar 
sent over a short time since a Bob-o-link, whose 
notes were more joyous yesterday than usual. 
A fawn was born within an half an hour after 
our arrival in honor of my visit, and the mother 



75 

of Mr. R. came down in the afternoon train to 
dine, and stop a day or two. I entered the 
cars on return before half past nine, and reached 
London soon after dusk. Today Mr. Petty 
Vaughan and his sister, Sally, call to tell me, 
that she goes on Tuesday to take passage for 
New York in the Mediator, London packet 
ship. She will, I hope, reach before Com- 
mencement day, and has promised to go to you 
for the very short stop she can make in Boston, 
for I tell her it is the most distance from her 
friends on either hand. Dr. Bigelows and either 
the Guilds, if they are in town, or the Scollays. 
You know I am her trustee with Capt. Curtis 
and J. Quincy, Jr., so that if you were not so 
hospitably inclined as she knows you to be, 
it would be right to insist on her making her 
visit at Temple Place. Besides she is, and has 
long been, a great admirer of Emma, and E. 
may do her some little service. She has seen 
more of me than any body else, out of this 
house. They tell me also of arrival of the 
steamer yesterday at L.pool from Boston, so 
that tomorrow I must get my news from you all; 
glad enough shall I be, though it may be nec- 
essary to close this letter before my advices can 
be read. 



16 

1 8 July must bring my despatch to a close, 
whether half be said, or not, that should be. 
At Mr. Everett's last evening we find, that he 
obtained his advices early in the morning, be- 
fore breakfast; and well entitled he is to get 
such advantage, though he could be only a few 
hours before other people, except on Sunday. 
The Post Offices in and around the Metropolis 
are closed. The friends at Mr. E's were very 
few, only Dr. Boott, his mother and two daugh- 
ters, Mr. and Mrs. Patterson, and a young 
Lee, son of Harry. Mrs. P. you remember as 
the daughter of Mr. Moorfield using to pass us 
on Sundays going in or out of church on our 
side aisle. She is very much improved in health 
and good looks. Still it is a sad thing to meet 
ones countrymen here, when the country is 
hourly disgraced by the stupidity of its govern- 
ment. I read the accounts with mortification 
at breakfast, and rejoice, when going abroad, 
that I shall not be pointed at as an American. 
Even among the English acquaintance, who 
have a very strong good will to our whole coun- 
try, I disclaim being answerable for, or ac- 
quainted with any part of the Western world, 
but New England. 

Afternoon: I am delighted with your letters 



77 

in all respects, except the melancholy report 
of sickness, casualty and death. Here is a 
better season, so far, than has been known for 
some four or five years. But the variety in 
human life, and condition, extends every v^^here. 
What a sad death of the Duke of Orleans! 
How may you and I suffer from it, in the evils 
to France, that is to all the civilized world. I 
was never in better health, and just busy enough. 

Jas. Savage. 

Harriet sends her love. Postage is one shill- 
ing, each letter, unless it weigh over half ounce, 
then it doubles. So the seven pieces of paper 
C. sent cost no more than two, if separate. In 
any part of G. B. a penny, unless double or 
treble, quadruple, etc. 

London, i8 July, 1842. 
To Judge Gushing. 

My dear Gushing, — I have within three hours 
received your letter No. 5 and am unable fully 
to express my obligation to you, but after twice 
reading it, as well as Lucy's, Harriet's and wife's, 
the first point that occurs to me is, to set an ex- 
ample of beginning in season to reply, that your 



78 

excuse, of many interruptions, for not filling 
all the paper, shall not become mine. 

In London almost everything is to be learned, 
if you get access to the right teachers; and for 
the outlying places, if they are large you may 
find local histories; if small, inquire of the rec- 
tors or vicars of the churches, who can tell you 
nothing, except from the Registers, of v^hich 
probably nine in ten are lost by various acci- 
dents, chiefly by having never existed, 

I exult greatly in the happy termination of 
Rhode Island folly. Will the new Constitution 
have security for any property qualification of 
suffrage ^. How can they be safe without it } 
Washington intrigues shame me altogether. 
None but friends are ever allowed here to know, 
that I am an American, for the competition at 
the seat of the Federal Government seems to 
be for the equality in disgrace that attaches to 
the delinquent members of the confederacy, 
say Mississippi, Indiana, Michigan or Pennsyl- 
vania. What a train of associations does this 
last name bring up! It was the keystone of 
our Union. It was so honest a community, 
that even the governorship of so petty a dema- 
gogue as MifBin could not sink it more than 



79 

his rival in contempt, Hancock, could Massa- 
chusetts. 

Oxford 27. 

I left the great Babylon on Monday and 
went about 35 miles to dine at Remenham Hill 
with Revd. George Gorham, who kept me till 
Tuesday afternoon in most perfect delight, ex- 
cept that he could detain me no longer. He 
was obliged next morning to go from home^ 
and I was bound to this seat of the Church and 
State Muses. I breakfasted with Dr. Daubeny^ 
professor of Botany, ruling the glorious garden 
here for that purpose, also prof, of Chemistry. 
From him I went to work hard to find out little 
at Philip Bliss the Register of the Univ. With 
him I must dine tomorrow. It is vacation time 
happily, or I should despair of having any of 
his time for any enquiries. 

29. I came to London again just before 
midnight, having dined with the Register, no- 
body but his wife present. It was delightful. 
I am charmed with Oxford, and got some in- 
formation in the eight hours steady work at the 
Registry, where also I gave some, and caused 
correction of an error in Bliss's noble edition of 
Wood's Athenae by reference to original Regis- 
ter for a different matter, which remains in- 



8o 

volved in obscurity they can hardy explain. 
But I should have been able to give more time 
there, had not the necessity existed of coming 
here to meet my noble friend, Kenyon, who goes 
to Germany, (tell Ticknor, if you see him) on 
Monday, as also to make arrangement for my 
peregrination in Essex. I made, however, so 
agreeable impression at Oxford, I think, by 
my politics and knowledge of my native land, 
to which every where I find the most friendly 
regards, that if time would permit me to make 
a second visit, it would be well repaid. We 
hear, by the newspapers, in a wonderfully short 
passage of the steamer, which came up from 
Liverpool just after midday; but I must be 
patient till tomorrow for my letters. Let me 
however, before tomorrow ask, if "Jardine's 
Index to State Trials" is in Boston, of course 
it would be at the Law Library if any where ? 

August 3 must close my letter, if ever so much 
tediousness remained to be bestowed on you. 
Remember, whatever is to be addressed to me 
requiring action must come by steamer of i 
Sept. though by the next you must, for the last 
time, write me information. I have abun- 
dance of money and health, and on Friday 5th 



set ofF for the North, travelling slowly to gather 
the fat of the land until I pass the bounds of 
Yorkshire. Scotland will, beyond my South 
West tour, (be) a mere journey for pleasure. 
If my wife feel no jealousy, I shall hope to find 
Professor Robertson and his daughters, my 
fellow passengers across the ocean. Last even- 
ing I saw a sweet little Lucy, one of Dr. Boott's 
children, though she brought to mind Eliza 
Woodward more than my daughter, for whom 
or any other of my household, including you 
and your wife I find not any parallel here. I 
have found, yesterday, at Merchant Taylor's 
Books my ancestor's binding apprentice, fihus 
Wilhoni Savidge de Taunton in Com. Somer- 
set 29 January, 1620-1 which perfectly concurs 
with his age on the tombstone supposing him 
to be 14 at age of beginning appr. and also with 
the age at the custom house, when embarking 
for New England. But as yet all my search, 
all my enquiries for glorious John Harvard 
give me nothing but his two degrees at Cam- 
bridge, when he signed proper manu. I have 
sent by the greatest Yorkshire antiquarian to 
hunt for him in the North, where, you know, 
the Archp. of York had jurisdiction of wills. 
Will you ask Presdt. Quincy, what he thinks, 



82 

of my advertising, offering a reward in the 
Times, for information about him ? What do 
you say yourself to it ? With all good wishes 
to wife and her big children, yourself, wife and 
little one, as ever I am 

Truly yours, 

Jas. Savage. 



To HIS Wife. 



Norwich, 8 August, 1842. 



My dear Wife, — I should not allow myself 
the delight of travelling in such beautiful coun- 
try, without making you a partaker. After 
leaving London to move North Easterly, the 
land lies flat until you reach Brentford, above 
a dozen miles, and from that smart looking, busy, 
little town, you have constant variety of surface 
through residue of Essex, the whole of Suffolk, 
and thus far in Norfolk. I came on Friday to 
Mr. Richard Almack at Melford, (friend of 
Nathan Appleton, though they never met,) to din- 
ner, and remained till 11 p.m. talking antiquities. 
He required me to come to breakfast, and kept 
me until after 10 on Saturday evening, called 
on me an hour before church on Sunday, pre- 
sented me three old English coins, promised 



83 

to send or carry to London for me a copy 
of Howeirs Letters 1630 with autographs of 
interest in it. He walked me about on Satur- 
day, after a shower had laid the dust nicely, 
through an avenue of elms from the road to 
a gentleman's seat one mile, and told me of all 
the proprietors through succeeding ages, and 
talked of Melford Hall, nearer to the village, 
being the spot where lived Howell, then a tutor 
to one of the sons, or all the family, of Savage, 
Lord D'Arney and Earl Rivers. On Sunday 
on our way to church he turned into the grounds 
of Melford Hall, and we saw deer in abundance, 
undisturbed, close to the house, which is now 
under repairs, the owner being in Norway fish- 
ing or shooting. It was necessary to take coach 
in the afternoon to come to this city, of which 
I have yet seen no part, having resolved to 
go not out before breakfast today. 

()th. Great was my luck yesterday, being 
called on before I had done breakfast by Page 
Nicol Scott, Esqr. to whom I had early (as 
directed by the writer) sent a letter of intro- 
duction obtained for me by Mr. Almack from 
one of his neighbors, resident at that house with 
the glorious avenue above said, Mr. S. was 
therein desired to gain me access to the great 



84 

wonder of this county, Costessy, or usually 
called Cossey, the seat of Marquis of Stafford, 
a Catholic Peer, who married one of the grand- 
daughters of Chas. Carroll of Carrollton, a Miss 
Caton. First then I was gallivanted about the 
city, introduced at the Museum, Public Library, 
Private Reading Room, and made free of all; 
then, in a vehicle opening from the top, we went 
off to the most melancholy, most splendid es- 
tate I have seen in England. Melancholy, 
beyond common parlance, is the condition, 
splendid, beyond modern notions, the situation 
of the edifice. Probably it is of the Eliza- 
bethan style and very highly ornamented. It 
is castle and palace, superior to the royal 
palaces that have met my view, except in- 
imitable Windsor. The central part, at least 
at the two fronts, is very high; and it must, 
if finished in conformity, cost little, if any 
less than a million of dollars. But much is 
boarded up, and neither Lord S. who is 70 
years old, nor his heir can put the finishing 
hand, for the whole estate is conveyed to Trus- 
tees to raise money to pay the debts incurred 
for what is already done. Pigs, sheep and 
horses belonging to vulgar people, are there 
feeding. Even over the fine running stream 



85 

in the grounds, where once was a beautiful 
bridge, now only two planks are laid. All this 
is the mistake of the former wife; and the pres- 
ent one wanted a title and a coronet! 

This morning I took Post horses and drove 
before breakfast fourteen miles to Hingham, 
having found here a letter from Hon. and Revd. 
Wm. Wodehouse, Rector of that parish. Send- 
ing my card from the Inn, with compliments, 
hoping for his kindness to name a time when 
I should call, and taking care that my card 
should go early enough, I had a most unpro- 
pitious answer, that he had not received due 
notice of my intention, so that he might have 
made a different arrangement for business, in 
which he had just been engaged as a magis- 
trate, and that it was necessary for him to go 
to Norwich forthwith. However shortly after 
came a message from the Rectory, before I had 
done breakfast, that his son, who was lately 
returned from America, would be pleased to 
see me in half an hour. I got to the house a 
minute or two before the Revd. Esquire sat 
off, and was well pleased with the son, who 
waited on me to view the graveyard and ex- 
amine the church, and especially to take in from 
the top of the tower the exquisitely fine pano- 



86 

ramie view for seven or eight miles, on every 
side. Perhaps Old Hingham has as little re- 
semblance to its namesake as to any town in 
America; yet there are some grounds of com- 
parison, in which our new world town has the 
superiority. There is no water near Old H. 
bigger than the little stream by Great Plain; 
no hill higher than that of Dr. Bela Lincoln's 
next to Mr. Gay's; the houses, as in all Eng- 
lish parishes, are very close together, many 
absolutely, however narrow, cottages, in blocks, 
like those of our city dwellings. But then the 
great superiority here is in the cultivation, 
hardly an acre to be seen, from which great 
product is not taken, unless it be a rich man's 
ornamental plantation of trees. This is the 
common glory of England. Yet I admire my 
own country the more, every hour I am distant 
from it. A meadow will here remind me of a 
similar one at home. 

On loth I took coach, in a bitter hot, dry 
forenoon for Yarmouth, and before high noon 
had a short view of the glorious ocean having 
not seen deep water before for about two months. 
The sight restored my drooping spirits, and 
at Mr. Dawson Turner's I was gratified 
with countless volumes of books and MSS. 



87 

filling many rooms in his large house, and even 
crowding his wardrobe. He is a great collector 
of curious writing, has the original receipt given 
to Simmons by John Milton for the second five 
pounds, price of Paradise Lost, also Elizabeth, 
the widow's, receipt for the purchase of copy- 
right on renewal. He has also Cowper's trans- 
lation of Homer in a waste book of C's father. 
He gave two hundred and forty dollars for as 
many letters, probably not one of importance, 
by Napoleon. To Norwich I returned by 
steamboat. 

^th. I am now, Thursday evening, writing 
in Boston, having come in a coach before dinner 
from Norwich seventy miles, leaving at seven 
A.M. Is it not wonderful that on nth August 
I should walk about Boston streets, and see no 
mortal I know ? The sense of loneliness seems 
greater than ever. 

Evening must not draw her curtains around 
me, before telling how successful I have been 
in an object of great interest to M. O. Gushing. 
Last evening I put in the Post Office a letter, at 
sufficient length, to Revd. Mr. Verburgh of New 
Sleaford to inquire about descendants of Leon- 
ard Brown, a captain in his Majesty's army, 
who was wounded at Bunker Hill fight 17 June 



88 

1775 ^^^ afterwards married Elizabeth, daugh- 
ter of James Otis. But this morning Mr. 
Staniland, to whom I brought a letter from 
London, mentioned his acquaintance with Leon- 
ard Brown of Pinchbeck, near Spalding, Es- 
quire by Com. (pray make Spalding, the coal 
merchant, supply our winter's stock without 
delay), who was, he thought from Sleaford, 
and over sixty years of age. He of course was 
adjudged by us the son of the propositus , and 
particularly because he was domineered over 
by his mother, after father's death, and had only 
within a short time married his housekeeper 
or cook, and had no children. So we went to 
another lawyer, who had abstract of title of 
estate, in which Leonard the father, and Eliza- 
beth his wife join in conveying estate at Slea- 
ford, which had been ninety years then, April 
1799, in family. So there can be no doubt, 
and I write him a full and judicious letter about 
his grandfather, aunt, cousins and second 
cousins and ask favor of reply with minuteness. 
Of course he will be shorter, but we shall know 
from himself, how the stock of Otis expires here. 
Good night. 

The only stopping place now between here 



89 

and Edinburgh is Harrogate, and that can only 
be for one twenty-four hours, unless the weather 
be bad. Next Saturday I hope to reach ^^ auld 
Reekie.'^ I can tell what has been done, better 
than anticipate what will be. Yet my progress, 
if health continues exuberant as it has been, 
must allow me to get your next and acknowledge 
it from some spot on the other side of the island, 
nearer Liverpool, on my way to London. In 
less than three months (and it is almost four 
since we parted) I shall give you again the em- 
brace of the truly affectionate 

Jas. Savage. 



York, 17 August, 1842. 
To Judge Gushing. 

Dear Cushingy — Yesterday, on reaching this 
city, where the Assizes are now holding by Ld. 
C. J. Denman, and of course all is in hurry 
and crowd, I sitting in my room to keep pos- 
session until ready to move safely in a coach 
for a quieter place, your letter of i Aug. was 
found, having been forwarded on 13th from 
Liverpool by my exact friend Sam. S. Gair. 

In the great article of public news, about the 



90 

negotiations between Lord Ashburton and our 
Government, I rejoice, with joy almost inex- 
pressible, at the reports. Can it be that equity 
and common sense shall triumph in that ad- 
justment of the boundary question ? My fears 
will not be banished, until the ratification by 
our Senate is obtained. You employ the same 
argument, that I used two months ago and more 
to many English friends, that the affair, if con- 
cluded to the satisfaction of Mass. and Maine, 
claimants of the locus in quo, could not be dis- 
arranged by any other State, however skilful 
the intrigues. But I confess my apprehensions, 
that the desire to spite and thwart Webster may 
be too strong, if the Treaty involve any other 
interest. Two, three or more, different, treaties 
or conventions must, I suppose be needed to 
include all the matters in controversy, and 
leave no possibility of rejection of the most im- 
portant. All who wish to keep open a quarrel 
with Great Britain must condole at the honor- 
able settlement of the boundary. In this coun- 
try the desire for accommodation is great and 
almost universal. Ashburton must rise two, 
if not three, pegs in the peerage for its accom- 
plishment; and Sir Robert, who is a wonderfully 
judicious statesman, as well as politician, must 



91 

strengthen his administration with the two 
houses, as he has already estabHshed it in the 
affections of the people. 

Edinburgh, 20th. 

Up to yesterday, when soon after noon I 
crossed the Tweed, the weather had continued 
exceedingly hot for G. B. but no matter of com- 
plaint to me. My journey was rapid from 
Harrogate for coaches, to this imperial, stone 
built city. Tell Wm. H. Gardiner, I performed 
the pious duty of taking a drive over to the vil- 
lage churchyard, where his father's corpse was 
reposited, and copied the inscription on the 
grave stone. 

The abundance of stone in happy proximity 
to this city will account for the extraordinary 
number of monuments and statues here. These 
are for D. Hume, D. Stewart, W. Pitt, Lord 
Melville, Lord Nelson, Burns, George IV., 
Duke of York, Sir Walter is now rising, and the 
Queen is talked of. All the surrounding land, 
water, still or rapid, mountain, dell, precipice, 
ravine, meadow, is, you know, made of value 
by the great enchanter, and well does this cap- 
ital and this kingdom show its gratitude. Of 
necessity, on passing a very few miles North 
of the Tweed, the impression of poverty in the 



92 

land is forced on you. No passing of wains 
over the bleak moors, no hope of harvest from 
the rugged side of the Pentland hills, must be 
the observation of every traveller from the bound- 
less treasures of the English fields; and even 
well looking young women, from whom you 
would not expect supplication for charity, and 
who think no more of making such request than 
the ^^pock pudding^ who jeers them, are seen 
without stockings and shoes. 

22nd. For the first time since landing in Eng- 
land, I have been a few hours unwell, probably 
from taking cold on Saturday, possibly from 
some preserved ginger, or other nonsense forced 
on me by the over-flowing hospitality of him 
at whose house I dined that day. I went to 
church yesterday in the forenoon, and had the 
old fashioned, artificial, theology of the un- 
shrinking church of Scotland poured into me 
enough to last for a month. 

2yh. Stirling; under protection of the royal 
tower of Stirling, did I sleep last night. On 
Tuesday I was pleased enough to reach the 
once royal capital of Perth, but more pleased 
to find at half past twelve a letter at the Post 
Office, written the day before from my inter- 



93 

esting young friend Miss Robertson, the eldest 
of the three daughters, who, with their father, 
accompanied my passage from New York. 
She entreated me to see her before leaving P. 
and as my sole object in coming thither was 
the same, she was not disappointed. With 
her, and her sister, my sweet Mrs. Conynghame 
(though your wife will not be so well pleased 
with the spelling of the name, as she would be 
with the shop keeper's opposite to my present 
lodgings) I spent some hours in the parts of 
two days. 

2Jth. Glasgow is too shockingly commer- 
cial for me, fatigued with the luxury of rural 
beauty and the more exhausting magnificence 
of mountain lochs and glens. But it would 
do in my quiet back room to give some of the 
details of my living a month in one twenty four 
hours, from Thursday after reaching the Tros- 
achs to Friday afternoon, when we took leave 
of Loch Lomond. Jamie came to my mind, 
when at Callendar, ten miles below the gates 
of the Highlands, a pedlar offered a small col- 
lection of poetry for a penny, and the first thing 
that caught my eye was the Star of Bethlehem. 
Had any good consistency of the other contents 
prevailed, I would have brought home the 



94 

pamphlet, but much was naught. I was cas- 
ually thrown at the Trosach Inn into an op- 
portunity for most agreeable society upon 
Loch Katrin, across the rugged pass to the 
Loch Lomond, upon and down that and the 
run up the noble Clyde. A young Irish gentle- 
man, John Chanley, was partaker of my cock- 
loft, and on Friday morning I found he had 
charge of three young ladies, one his aunt, 
two sisters, of whom one was married, but 
Miss Maiy Cora Chanley would answer for 
the Lady of the Lake very well. I had 
charge of the helm, and we had a shower 
for half of the lake and clouds, not distressing 
however, for residue; but most agreeable tem- 
perature for our traversing on ponies the five 
miles that divide these two sister lakes. Think 
of me on the top of a horse's back, doing the 
amiable for Miss Cora, until a more agreeable 
young Frenchman relieved her and me, and the 
rest of the land route gave me conversation 
with her brother and the other two ladies. 
Our whole party was twenty four, and on the 
greater lake increased to more than double. 
What man has ever been so fortunate in his 
writings as Scott t Five and thirty years ago 
his fame stood well on the Lay of the Last 



95 

Minstrel, but Marmion, with all its animation, 
which indeed is wonderful, began to draw out 
the critics against the triviality of the measure, 
and the author admitted his chance to be small 
of living long, yet could not escape from the 
"fatal facility of the octosyllabic verse." But 
the language that would have ruined him is 
consecrated by the manner of its employment. 
It is the scenery that saved and will forever 
preserve Sir Walter. He has the happiness 
of fixedness in the affections of his country- 
men; and the fibres of his popularity are sent 
through every cleft of the rocks in all the ravines 
of Ben Ledi, Ben An, Ben Venu, Ben Lomond 
and Ben Voirlich. His harp will be musical, 
while the waters of Loch Katrin, Loch Ven- 
nachar and a hundred other mountain reser- 
voirs are undrained. It is quite amusing to 
hear the half savage people telling for old his- 
toric truths what was invented by this modern; 
and indeed the larger part of authentic narra- 
tive for the Northern kingdom had better be 
forgotten. The nation will gain from the poet's 
tales ten fold more reputation than from the 
ferocity of their chivalry in politics or religion. 
No small remains of the old covenanting spirit 
exists to this hour; and this very week I was 



96 

reading in one of the daily papers vehement 
exhortations against the Erastian tendency of 
recent decisions in Courts of Law. The church 
established is perhaps less certain to be an es- 
tablished church than John Knox anticipated. 
The same element that, in our country, occa- 
sionally makes mischief, here does it perpet- 
ually, when the patron makes nomination that 
does not suit the power loving portion of the 
clergy. Division is fomented in the parishes, 
and perhaps the day may speedily come, when 
the voluntary principle will prevail. 

I have reached Ayr, the home of Robert 
Burns, to whose honor is a monument on the 
banks of the Doon some three miles from town, 
that may not be seen until I travel again on 
Monday. 

You may see or hear much of the strikes, 
or outbreaks of colliers or other laborers. But 
be sure of this, it all amounts to nothing. Chart- 
ism is still lower, or less than nothing. The 
two follies are antagonisms, and like Kilkenny 
cats will destroy each other. To pretend to 
expect the Charter, and to say we will do no 
work until the charter is obtained, is as wild 
as to believe we can go, without food, until it 
rains roasted ducks, with boiled potatoes, and 



97 

cranberry sauce to accompany. I found last 
evening at Glasgow agreeable intelligence, by 
Great Western, from home, also some more 
evidence of folly at Washington. Perhaps the 
evil of the Treasury and the Babel confusion 
about Tariff are necessary preliminaries to 
secure the ratification of the Treaty. A short 
misery for long good is a fair purchase how- 
ever. But Captain Tyler must have a patent 
for blunders. 

I Sept. Dumfries. Day before yesterday 
at Kirkcudbright, whither I went to see two 
ladies, fellow passengers in crossing the ocean 
last spring (see first letter to my wife), the 
pleasure of receiving your No. 8 of i6 Aug. 
postmarked Liverpool 28th was enjoyed. All is 
agreeable, except your scolding so about politics, 
which is a prevention of my doing the same 
thing. For your blunder in not endorsing the 
bill of Exchange you will have a rap, no doubt, 
from Cavan brothers, but as the second part 
has come safe, I shall be indifferent about call- 
ing to see if my indorsement would be useful. 
Perhaps I may look in on them before 
London. This trifling over-sight you will 
never forget. I have made up my mind, since 
my wife is grown so liberal as to hope I may 



98 

Stay here over the winter, that, if my work can 
be possibly crowded through by i Octor. at 
London, the steamer of 4th shall bring me home. 
It is a far better chance than that of 19th as it 
is from new moon to full. So look for my 
dining in Temple Place on Tuesday i8th. Of 
course no more letters will be written to me, 
after receipt of this. 

2nd, Carlisle received me last evening an 
hour and more after sunset; and this one meagre 
letter was begun in England and will be fin- 
ished in the same blessed land. More time I 
ought to have given to this land of liberty and 
romance; but I could not spare it, and the 
preparations for the Queen's visit were crowd- 
ing every thing out of the way. In the wider 
realm there is room enough for her Majesty 
and myself at once. Let not your wife, more 
than my wife, think themselves forgotten, for 
this afternoon I have come to Ambleside, on 
the splendid Lake Winandermere, and must 
therefore bring to remembrance our Winni- 
pisioche, which it in some considerable degree 
resembles. Appropriate diversity entitle each 
to claim admirers. Here, probably, is less clear 
sky in a year, than at our lake in a month; but 
then the poetical horizon, if narrower, is much 



99 

more glorious from the contest between sun and 
cloud forever kept up. Before going to bed, 
I will tell you of walking a mile and a half up 
to see Mr. Wordsworth, and back in a very 
dark road, within hearing of rippling of two, 
three or more streams, and dashing of one 
twenty feet perpendicular, perhaps from a mill 
tail. He has talked about every thing, even 
refusal of community of copyright, but with 
great moderation. His wife is a picture of an 
old lady. At their house was Mrs. Hill, the 
minister's wife, daughter of Southey, the poet, 
historian, &c. Her poor father is very nearly 
gone with paralysis. It will do just as well to 
seal this letter now, as to put in another date 
tomorrow morning and have the ambition of 
giving the last minute. Tell Judge Davis to- 
morrow evening I hope to see Revd. J. Hut- 
chinson, and next Thursday be at London. 

Truly yours, 

J AS. Savage. 



To HIS Wife. 



London, 8 Sept., 1842. 



My dear Wife, — Last evening brought me 
safe again to this city of refuge and rest, that 



lOO 



is of real employment without distraction. 
You have the advantage of my first use of ink 
here, because it is stormy, and I will not go to 
the State Paper Office, under Lord Aberdeen's 
jurisdiction, to copy old curious MSS. which 
is my earliest work to be attended to. Last 
evening, in an hour after my reaching the house 
at sunset, came on a thunder storm, and this 
morning, though bright, the wind blew so 
high, it was plain that it would not continue 
pleasant. While it rains I can wait, and had you 
seen the letters, more than a dozen, waiting my 
arrival, you would presume my pen must fly fast. 

This day last week you got, I hope, my de- 
spatch from York as two days earlier I received 
yours, acknowledged in the letter to Gushing, 
that can hardly attain to Boston post oflftce 
before next Sunday week, i8th Inst. 

What a miserable slight memento must my 
journal afford of the delights that attended me 
in the few hours of my excursion to Loch Kat- 
rin, Loch Lomond and much other scenery 
in Scotland, and the more hurried visit to Wi- 
nandermere. Since I began writing, the Post 
brings me a letter from Wordsworth to renew 
my recollection of the two or three hours con- 
versation with him. But then you must take 



lOI 



the few pages, and whenever you please require 
me to make any five Hues a text, and preach 
a whole sermon on it. Your letter of 15th 
proposes to me to remain here over a win- 
ter. But then that is a joke. You could 
not be serious. Why, it would kill me to 
stay to the end of November, in such weather 
as I know, by the sample of to-day, they 
have in abundance here. Either by steamer 
of 4th or that of 19th next month I come, 
and by the earliest, if my work can be got 
through with, and health continue, of which 
in ten days when my letter must be closed, 
opportunity of speaking with confidence must 
be enjoyed. Meanwhile, let me charge you, 
within one day after getting this, to begin (with 
asking opinions of Eliza, Emma and Harriet 
if you think them entitled to give any) to make 
up a list of readings for us in the library, prose 
and poetry, to begin in two evenings after my 
return. This should be put down in writing, 
for it is doing nothing, not to do this. A trag- 
edy of Shakspeare, a poem of Milton, or Pope, 
or Gray, or Scott, a series of Essays, or a tale 
of Sir Walter, may be recollected, when the 
time comes; but not the regular sequence for 
all our long winter evenings, that may as well 



I02 



begin 20 Octor. as 20 Novr. or Deer. I feel also 
very desirous that the youngest hope may be 
at work upon what must come soon, his Latin; 
and I would give him some assistance every 
morning before school, or evening after it, for 
half an hour. My plan is, to live better next 
winter than last, that is to spend more time at 
home, less at Savings Bank, or in the Insurance 
Office. At least I am resolved to take more 
exercise than I was generally accustomed to, 
for here I make nothing of three, four or five 
miles per day walking, and such was an allow- 
ance for a week at home. 

12 Sept. 

Whether in my last letter to Gushing any 
thing was said of my Kirkcudbright friends I 
do not recollect; but of Perth friends I was 
copious enough according to my memory. 
Now it is a great satisfaction to say, that today 
has come a note from Miss Robertson, in an- 
swer to one I wrote at Dumfries giving her re- 
sult of my exploration at K. She announces 
material improvement in her father's condition, 
and the return from the Highlands of her two 
sisters, and the sight of the Queen, who has 
made a most exhilarating exhibition to her 
loyal subjects in the North. 



I03 

15 Sept. 
To Judge Gushing. 

Dear Gushing, — Write by first mail to George 
A. Uland, Esquire, New York, that I had here 
last week, on returning from Scotland, his 
letter of 29 July covering one to Lord Lynd- 
hurst; having some days before got, on the road, 
his advice of 11 August; — that I gave diligent 
heed to the matter, and charmed with the hope 
of truth from his intended publication, and 
inclosed his address to the Lord Chancellor 
in a short, and politic one of my own last Mon- 
day, of which he shall have copy on my reach- 
ing home; — that yesterday came the letter of 
Mr. Low of Brooklyn, which was not needed 
to spur my zeal, — that I hear yet no word 
from Lord L. and never did expect to, but 
have no time to write him so fully as I must 
when that pleasure shall be permitted to me. 

Your letters always satisfy me in every par- 
ticular, and especially that received today, in 
its suggestions about drawing foreign capital 
to our investments. For me it is neither feas- 
ible, expedient, nor agreeable, the latter failing 
to such a degree, that probably I should blow 
my brains out on hearing from a poor sufferer 
his taunts at the good faith of private and pub- 



I04 

lie men heretofore trusted on the Western side 
of the ocean. Pennsylvania disgrace diffuses 
through all Europe the stench of our infamy. 
Rather let us beg them not to trust, to give 
double the punishment to any person commit- 
ting any crime who comes from U. S. and to 
turn up their noses at all promising projects for 
making towns, opening mines and such things 
as have for years been offered. General Duff 
Green has been five months here, willing to 
sell some portion or the whole of such a coal, 
or iron, deposit, perhaps both, as the like was 
never heard of. Economy can easily bring 
our country up, though it would be good to 
have some honesty for an ingredient in the re- 
storative. You are not the earliest proposer 
of a slight change in the name of immortal John 
Harvard, but it does no good. How could his 
neighbors and the contemporaries, of clergy 
and General Court, mistake the sound? How 
can I mistake the handwriting, plain as your 
own, almost, signed twice at the University, 
on taking the degrees, respectively .? Much I 
get, however, from your words, "Excon or 
Admor and successor in the ministry, Revd. 
T. Allen,'' and your suggestions will rule me, 
but I can give you no more of my wife's place. 



los 

To HIS Wife. 

\"jth. Dear Wife, — Last evening we, three,* 
dined at Mr. Wm. Vaughan's, the uncle of 
Miss S. V. He is an old bachelor, but will not 
be ninety years old before next Thursday, and 
is much indebted to you for your attentions 
to his niece. You must not complain of my 
taking up so much of your letter by business 
directions to Gushing, as in the last parcel from 
home there is not a word from you. But I do 
not complain, knowing that you were too busy, 
and being so well pleased with what Emma 
and Lucy, and especially Eliza wrote. Tell 
Molly I have got another letter from her cousin 
Leonard Brown, Esquire. 

You can hardly conceive of the wonderful 
weather (for England) that has been enjoyed 
this season. It is said to be twenty years since 
so fine a season was known. Abundance I 
can judge of by the show of fruit in the streets, 
and the goodness by eating. Pears, this year, 
exactly like our Bartlett's, are common, and 
the cries are, of course for other kinds, twelve 
a penny, and the next man yelled sixteen for 
a penny. What bargains our Lucy would 

* John Hillard and wife. 



io6 

make, if Emma gives a true account of her 
trading capacity. 

The letter to Judge Davis, v^hich I send 
open, that you may see how some of my time 
passes, and how easily I make friends, must 
be sealed and sent as soon as you can. Today 
I go to dine with a gentleman, John Thornton, 
to whom Wordsworth gave me a letter of in- 
troduction, for the special purpose of seeing 
a treasure in possession of one of his neighbors, 
that, if successful, you shall know about in my 
addition next Monday, before the post closes. 

19 Sept. Monday. Here is, my dear, the last 
writing that you can receive from me in England, 
as I hope, for my passage is directed to be taken 
in the Britannia. She is the vessel that brought 
us the blessed news last week and therefore may 
be considered a fortunate one, though her 
passages have not been so short, by a few hours, 
as one or two of the others have made. In 
thirty days from this I shall hope to embrace 
you, and that will be, probably, in fifteen from 
the hour you can read it. If we are happy 
enough to reach home on Wednesday, 19 Octor., 
the corps of the Cadets, of Governor's Guards, 
at least will celebrate my return,'for that is their 
anniversary; and the younger children may. 



I07 

if the day be fair, enjoy the sight and the music, 
if they can not see or hear father. But on 
Saturday I promised to tell about my curiosity 
at the dinner. Well, then, the dinner was 
very agreeable in more important matter than 
turbot and venison; but as to the writing of 
Charles I. saving the reverence due to his 
"discrowned head," and the sympathy, which 
the rough managers of his taking off, by the 
infamous machinery of their High Court of 
Justice, excites in all readers, who justly ap- 
preciate the English Constitution, the value is 
very slight. As relics honorable to the trust- 
worthiness of the servant who received them 
from his royal master, they are valuable to 
descendants direct or collateral. The line of 
Finebrace, or Finebrasse, is now extinct. That 
was the name of the true hearted domestic; 
and now the curiosities belong to one of the house 
of Argyle, descendant of a Duke that suffered 
for treason against the son of same Charles. 
So changes the world. As you give me no 
commands about buying any thing, but silver 
forks, and John says, they may as well be got in 
Boston as here, I shall bring you nothing but 
the stockings. For little Mary I have bought 
two whistles for one penny, she being a devotee 



io8 

of music. It would be very agreeable to me 
to buy anything for the children, but really I 
have no faculty of guessing what would be agree- 
able; and unless I make Harriet L. Hillard my 
agent to select, nothing would came. Prob- 
ably they will be sufficiently rejoiced to see me, 
without any thing to serve as play things. At 
least it seems to me, the gratification would be 
enough for 

Yours ever 

Jas. Savage. 



To HIS Daughter Emma, the wife of Prof. 
William Barton Rogers. 

Boston, 29 June, 1849, Evening. 
Well, my dear child, having marked out al- 
most day by day your course and distance in 
crossing the wide sea of which now nine days 
are wholly gone, I presume you are this hour, 
and if the sky be fairer with you than with us, 
this moment in sight of the coast of Ireland, or 
the lighthouse at its Southern extremity. It 
could not be that you failed to know something 
of seasickness on the day after you left Boston, 
though the ocean were as smooth as his face 
could possibly be made. Yet before sunset my 



I09 

calculation carried you into the glorious harbour 
of Halifax near about the same time that we 
reached our house on Sunny Hill. 

The roses had begun to show themselves at 
our reaching the Hill and in four and twenty 
hours there were as many as five hundred fully 
blown. The coming forward of everything was 
wonderfully rapid, though moisture was wanting 
to all, and your mother seemed to know no end 
to her service in watering them. I left home on 
Wednesday morning to run into New Hamp- 
shire to look after my Nashua property, and 
came here in the evening. We have had six 
cool days, ending with copious rain, which may 
not yet be exhausted; and glad will be the earth 
for the refreshment. I have not seen Mr. 
Rogers, who went to New York, as I came here; 
nor the Binneys, a single one of them, nor in- 
deed any body else, except the Ticknors, and 
their Anna has not yet returned from Geneseo, 
and except Cousin George, nor even his wife. 
My business engagements will hold me until 
Monday afternoon, and then we will make a 
full party, the Judge and his wife, Hillard 
and his wife, perhaps Lizzy Ticknor, to get 
get away from the crowd and noise of the popu- 
lar celebration of fourth of July. We heard 



no 



from Harriet, that she had a comfortable and 
speedy run by steam carriage and steamship 
to Kennebec; and may not fix her day of re- 
turn. Dear Lucy after the first day of extreme 
heat on our hill began to show marks of im- 
provement on following the Doctor's advice 
about working in the garden before breakfast, 
and trying the saddle horse towards sunset. 
I hope to find, though the hope is less confi- 
dent, a degree of improvement in your Aunt 
Hillard, proportionate to the difference between 
our pure mountain circulation and the con- 
fined breezes of the city. Here I break off, in 
the promise of adding a few syllables, before 
going home. 

Sunday, i July. 
Having a world of business to attend to to- 
morrow yet resolute to return to our dear hill 
top in the afternoon, I must now give you a few 
moments. Yesterday afternoon's Eastern mail 
brought your dear pencil scratches at the foot 
of Mr. Rogers' note, written almost nine days 
before. So we must make a change in our 
calculations as to the prosperity of your voyage. 
But a few hours must not be reckoned of much 
consequence, especially in the voyage towards 
the island of the blessed. Instead of being on 



Ill 



shore this day, you will be to-morrow, as was 
my frst calculation, before giving way to the 
ardour of Mr. Henry Rogers, which burned 
up all interposing fogs. Twelve days are few 
enough. 

Make your husband know how perfectly 
satisfied I am, that my daughter may rely on 
him, if his health be confirmed, for all the tender- 
ness of her mother, and the protection of a 
father that heretofore has always been bestowed 
on her. What he shall devise for improvement 
of his lungs or larynx, he may not beneficially 
carry into act without your concurrence, I well 
understand, for a new married man is unable 
to resist the caprice of a wife that might expose 
him in evening air, or the petty perils of travel- 
ling. Confidently do I feel, that he will be in 
no danger from your perversity either in wishing 
to see that or avoid this object of common 
curiosity; but I have much less confidence, 
you may tell him, in his discretion. If he were 
alone, (I wish not to speak extravagantly) it 
would be worth double premium to insure his 
life. The shocking faults, wide dikes, and 
cruel traps in geology would be fivefold more 
hazardous to him than to common man. 

Remember, my dear child, you shall not be 



112 

required to write more than one letter by every 
steamer, but no less than one must be sent. 
Yet we shall not be so selfish as to require that 
the address be to your mother or myself, pro- 
vided the receiver (whoever be the receiver) 
give knowledge promptly of the news to your 
aflFectionate 

Jas. Savage. 

Dr. Gannett preached all day on the relations 
of the Society and himself for twenty five years, 
and of course we all felt the deepest interest in 
his statements, as whenever he refers to personal 
concerns. Rev. Mr. Clarke is to embark in 
the ship Plymouth Rock for Liverpool on 
Thursday. 



To Mrs. Rogers. 



Boston, Tuesday Evening. 
July 17—49— 



My dear Child, — James came to us on Sat- 
urday from school, and enters forthwith into 
the appropriate enjoyment. Kate Hillard and 
Mary's three children were all, under his direc- 
tions, raking hay upon the lawn; and I had seen 
his preparation, at the last moment before my de- 
parture, for an attempt to take all the fish out 
of the brook below or beyond Mr. Bayley's. 



113 

The drought is so extensive that the brook is 
wholly reduced to stagnate in spots favorable 
to its continued existence. At the road below 
Smailes's, it seems to me not a pint of water 
ran in an hour. And the fish may as well give 
up to his hook, as die of inanition. 



It is not yet resolved, whether mother shall 
go to the Eastward for a few weeks visit to 
good old judge Lincoln, as I desire, or not. It 
certainly must seem hardly possible, that we 
could see him another year. Eighty -five is a 
slippery year in a man's life; and even sixty jive 
which I filled up last Friday (the hottest day, it 
is said, for four and twenty years) makes ap- 
peal for speedy finishing whatsoever his hands 
find to do to. 

Your aflFectionate father 

Jas. Savage. 

I am at Ticknor's. His wife sends love to 
you. 

Lunenburg, 31 July, 1849. 
To Mrs. Rogers. 

My dear Child, — We were something dis- 
appointed at receiving no letters from you by 
the last of the steamer's line, arr. at New York 



114 

on Friday last, but consoled ourselves with 
the confidence of your writing for every Boston 
one, and shall hope for her budget, if she comes 
in day after to-morrow. Once only, as yet, 
have we had advice of you in the blessed island 
by Lucy's letter of i July, the day of your land- 
ing at Liverpool and 6th at London. For that 
letter coming in the Caledonia to Boston I 
waited at B. until Friday afternoon in vain. 
My visit was at Mr. Ticknor's and exceeding 
pleasant, though Wednesday and Thursday 
were chiefly spent at Cambridge, the early 
Commencement. Everything appeared well at 
Cambridge. 

Your first words reached us, by express, on 
Sunday morning before last, and most exhil- 
arating they were to me, as reviving afresh the 
scenery of that paradise. We shall entertain 
fears, that a hurried visit to the Continent may 
not by its interesting scenes or investigations 
repay the discomforts and perils of the tour. 
How deep seated the fever of rebellion may 
be among the general population on the banks 
of the Rhine, is not to be estimated by a curious 
traveller; and at least his comfort will not be 
increased, if his security is, by the banded 
thousands of disciplined operators with scalpels 



115 

in their hands to let blood on the slightest 
alarm. 

To-morrow we have promise of a visit from 
Govr. Davis's son, Horace, a very nice youth, 
who had his degree a fortnight ago at Cam- 
bridge. We have been extremely quiet hitherto, 
having not had a single visitor over night, ex- 
cept Mary I. Cooper, who came up the day 
after I went down, and spent five days. I 
made exertion, when at Boston, to obtain vis- 
itors, such as Mrs. Judge Warren and Miss 
Otis, but Miss O. was gone to Newport, and 
Mrs. W. afraid to come without her cousin, lest 
Miss O. might not be willing to come alone after 
return from Newport, also Mrs. Mills, who was 
already with trunks packed to go to White 
Hills with a party of Dr. Hayward and Ign. 
Sargent and their wives. However each party 
promises fairly. I have made appointment 
to be in Boston two days on business, and then, 
probably, to make up my projected excursion 
to Passamaquoddy. It begins to be clear to 
me, that your mother will not go. So, I think, 
my visit will be without any attendant, and if 
it be the latest to the good old patriarch at 
Dennysville in his eighty-sixth year, as by the 
usual course of nature may be presumed, it 



ii6 

may be a gratification to think, after he is gone, 
that the Summer preceding was gladdened by 
my visit. My sister Cooper, too, may expect 
return of her compHment of last year by giving 
her a few hours; and from the growing years 
of both of us, the chance is not great of ever 
beholding each other more than once or twice, 
again. I write not thus, because any infirmity 
creeps over me. My health and spirits are 
fully equal to last year's. With the ther- 
mometer below 78 I should walk to the Post 
Office and back, as well this year as in former 
ones. In my work at the desk, not a minute 
is given in each day less than last year. I doubt 
if last year any day saw me so many hours stand- 
ing, with my pen, as yesterday. It must have 
been nine. But then it was too warm to go 
out of doors before sunset, and yet a glorious, 
elastic, dry air, that might almost teach any 
sentient being to fly. 

We hope, I had nearly forgotten, to get Dr. 
Rogers here from Phila. next week. The 
dread of the cholera is well over. It has been 
a light visitation on our whole Atlantic shore. 
New York and Brooklyn count up many deaths; 
but they are large cities. In Boston the loss 
has been less a week on an average, and not a 



117 

dozen in any one. So it is little feared by the 
generality, not at all by me. Aunt H. is as well 
as any days these ten years. Good-bye, 

Yours affectionately as ever, 

J AS. Savage. 



Boston, 14 Aug. '49. 
To Mrs. Rogers. 

My dear Child, — ^Your letter of 26 ulto. from 
Dunkeld came to us at Lunenburg, last Satur- 
day morning, being less by some hours than a 
fortnight from its leaving Liverpool. We are 
very solicitous for arrival of your despatches, 
because the second failed of its turn, having 
official, ominous, words enstamped ^^too late,^ 
so that it came by the steamer that brought us 
advice from you a week later. We all pre- 
sume you are now on the continent, but trust 
in Providence and prudence to bring you safely 
off. In the ship that carries this goes my friend 
Jos. Coolidge to bring his boys from the land 
of confusion or at least uncertainty, which 
Germany may show her just claim to be reckoned. 

When I wrote you a fortnight since, we ex- 
pected a visit from young Davis, Horace, son 
of the Governor that was. He was true to his 



ii8 

engagement, and came to us on Wednesday by 
the Railway from Worcester, and we kept him 
until Friday evening, giving him the views about 
us in a drive through the glen and other retired 
roads on the first day before sunset; and on 
Thursday having our party enlarged by Mr. 
White * and his agreeable wife from Newton we 
took the full glory of Pearl Hill. We retained 
the youthful preacher and his lady until Satur- 
day, as they had only to travel over to West 
Townsend, and so onward to Peterborough, 
where he was to preach on Sunday. After long 
enduring drought, we obtained sufficient falls of 
rain on Friday, Saturday and Sunday, being 
the only thorough laying the dust has had since 
last May. On Friday by middle train came 
Dr. Rogers from Philadelphia and Eliz. S. Tick- 
nor from Boston, and close prisoners had they 
been kept, until I left them yesterday afternoon, 
though Rogers got a drive with the Judge to 
the Post Office after breakfast. No doubt, as 
the clouds broke away kindly, when at half 
past twelve I took my departure (being afraid 
to wait for evening train, that is because an 
hour and half later than last year to accom- 
modate the up country travel) they got a 

* The Revd. WilHam Orne White. 



119 

good drive round about the valleys. Tomorrow 
I expect to hear by Dr. Rogers, as he v^ill 
come to attend the Scientific Assoc, at Cam- 
bridge; and the next day I go to Quoddy to 
see (probably for the last time) the excellent 
Judge Lincoln, who, twenty years ago, was 
so charmed with your teaching him in the 
mockery of your four year old school keeping. 
Now we begin to inquire, as to the time of 
your return, and the manner. If your hus- 
band feels punctilious by the necessity of being 
home the middle of Octor. you must embark 
at Liverpool 29 Sept. and the steamer for that 
day is (unless we miscount) the Canada, that 
has just now been reported to have made the 
shortest of all runs from Boston — ten days. If 
you exercise discretion in coming away from 
the island of the blessed, and make about the 
middle of Octor. to mean the time of depart- 
ing, not of arrival, then you take the boat for 
13 Octor. to come to Boston. Your husband 
rules this matter. Pray let him call at No. 30. 
Torrtngton Square on my excellent friend. Rev. 
Joseph Hunter,"^ who may desire so good a 
chance of sending me a small volume of his 
writings. 

* Noted antiquary. 



I20 

I hope Harriet gave you story of our receiv- 
ing on Sunday morning from H. Davis at 
Worcester a box with v^onderful combination 
of leaves and flowers arranged in the happiest 
manner. He had much encouraged your 
mother about planting from the great success 
of his father on a far less promising soil than any 
at Sunny Hill; and sent this evidence of his 
affection for the growth around his dwelling 
and of his regard for the kindness he had re- 
ceived, as he said, at our hands. He is only 
eighteen years of age, left the University last 
month, in high rank on taking his degree. 

15TH Aug. 
Pray remember to see good Mrs. Rotch on 
your return from Europe before leaving Lon- 
don. Her daughter, Mrs. Farrar sent us 
charming extract from her mother's letter about 
you to delight 

Your affectionate 

Jas. Savage. 



Sunny Hill, Sunday, 26 Aug. 

To Mrs. Rogers. 

Last night, my dear child, at nine o'clock, I 
got home, having come from Eastport the after- 



121 



noon before, and been only twenty-two hours 
upon the steamboat, even with stopping to 
leave passengers at Portland. My passage 
down was equally favorable. 

They were all delighted with seeing me, and 
hearing of you, for your last letter, dated at 
Windermere, 2 May, had been received by me 
1 6th, four hours before embarking. Judge 
Lincoln really looks younger than when I 
passed a week with him two years ago. He 
talked about you with much kindness, now in 
his eighty sixth year. 

It had not been in my contemplation, that 
you would visit Winandermere (you curtailed 
a syllable, as popularly speaking they always 
do), or I would have given you a word of in- 
troduction to good Mr. Wordsworth, who was 
very kind to me, and to whom, by George Hil- 
lard, I sent a copy of Emerson's Trees and 
Shrubs of Mass. to keep up the memory of me. 
On the continent I can afford you no passport, 
having failed to make any visit there, and can say 
I never saw Europe; but only its Queen island. 

Coming from town so soon after landing 
from my voyage, I heard very little, and it was 
in the cars that the death of my excellent 
friend, Rev. Dr. Pierce, was told to me. 



122 

To-morrow your brother James goes down 
to school, and we hope his loss will be made up 
by letters from you to 

Your affectionate father, 

Jas. Savage. 



Sunny Hill. 
2ND. Sept. 1849. 

To Mrs. Rogers. 



Your husband may be glad to learn, that 
last week I passed the difficult bourne of letter 
P. that was begun in May; and so turned again 
to the work of transcription in letter B. which 
is a more populous letter even than P. but of 
which my hope is to see the end from this 
house. Let my health continue in all respects 
as now, and the two great masses of S. and W, 
may be wholly swallowed and assimilated before 
the end of 1850. It may be to several others in 
England a far more interesting piece of news, 
that Ticknor's third volume of the History of 
Spanish Literature may be through the press 
this month, though my report of his progress 
is only of middle of July, when he was near the 
end of second volume. 

I am suddenly called to finish my scrawl, 



123 

because the Judge has made up his mind to go 
to Quoddy tomorrow. So, my dear Emma, I 
shall not strain my eyesight to another word 
than 

Yours, 

J AS. Savage. 
Boston, 4 March, 1850. 

To Mrs. Rogers at the University of 
Virginia. 

My dear Emma, — ^Though it were not the re- 
turn of the blessed day that gave you birth, twenty 
six years ago, you would have a right to expect 
remembrance by me, because my regard is to 
be shown by telling how well I got home, as 
projected, on Saturday evening. "Plenty time, 
massa," was the frequent exclamation of the 
black coachman, who took me from your house 
at half past two on Thursday morning; and 
his word proved true. We passed through 
Charlottesville before the regular stage vehicle 
was in motion, and waited half an hour for its 
arrival after reaching the station, not depot, 
for you know there was no building within a 
mile of the spot, where the locomotive and its 
attending baggage and passenger car, not cars, 



124 

were standing, al fresco. When the coach from 
town arrived, we counted nine passengers for 
the train; but in our progress of seventy miles, 
by various little alleys leading to plantations, 
and by the little settlements of Gordonville 
(I am not confident of the city's name) and 
Louisa Court House, we were able to make up 
twenty four or five. At the junction we got a 
breakfast, and the Richmond tr-^in gave us 
importance; though I became for the rest of 
the day barely a way passenger, and so was 
called on to pay more on the portion of the Rich- 
mond to Washington, and thence to Baltimore, 
line of cars, than if I had entered at Richmond 
and paid through fare for the whole, instead of 
paying twice for the less distance. 

Passing Mount Vernon towards W. a smart 
rain came upon us, and almost every body and 
thing was wet on the landing, before the vehicles 
could receive the great crowd going up to the 
metropolis. The weather grew worse, which 
was no dissatisfaction to me, for my purpose 
would have been confirmed, if possible, by it, 
that Baltimore should be my resting place. 
If, as seemed probable at sunset, the rain would 
change to snow, and the following morning be 
very uncomfortable, I knew the starting from 



125 

Washington, without breakfast, before sunrise, 
would be a whole day's grief to me, and make a 
late arrival at New York enough to break me 
down. At the United States Hotel at B. I was 
perfectly safe and quiet, got a good breakfast,, 
in a bright sunshine, and genial atmosphere, 
proceeded onwards in fine spirits to Philadelphia, 
having most copious conversation with a gentle- 
manly chaplain in the Navy, whose card bore 
Rev. J. W. Newton; and there arrived a little 
before three. I gave up thoughts of any dinner, 
and found I could pass near half an hour at 
Dr. James Rogers, saw only Rachel, William, 
and the little girl. On board the boat before 
half past four, immediately after starting we had 
supper, and though our course was slow, I 
found Mr. Hillard and Frank waiting for me 
on the pier at a quarter before ten. The luggage 
we bestowed at the Fulton ferry house, and I 
got to your Aunt Hillard's before half after ten. 
John was there, and Oliver who talked of setting 
off for the West this morning. 

We find the air is very much colder; and on 
the way to and from church not the slightest 
appearance of any thaw is perceptible. But it 
must be taken into account that yesterday was, 
all the day, covered with thin clouds, portending 



126 

snow. However, after long dispute whether 
today's wind should be N. E. or N. W. the even- 
ing sun decided for fair weather, and we have 
the thermometer down to lo, one report is 7. 
By the vehemence of his action, Bevis* would 
claim to be more glad to see me, than any other 
being under my roof. One of his paws was in 
my side pocket very quick, and when this had 
been expelled, another claimed the place. 
Your affectionate father, 

Jas. Savage. 

Boston, i May, 1850. 

To HIS Daughter at the University of 
Virginia. 

My dear Emmay — Will you inform your hus- 
band, that he can do a kind thing by giving a 
letter of introduction for our Massachusetts 
Geologist, Edward Hitchcock, President of 
Amherst College, who goes Wednesday after 
next to England for his health ? He will attend 
the scientific Association at the Edinburgh 
meeting, beyond doubt, as I learn from the 
gentleman who carries him, John Tappan, 
Esq. Perhaps Mr. Rogers may think the emi- 

i^^;" •; , . * The Neinrfoundland dog. 



127 

nence of Dr. Hitchcock is such, that he must 
have acquaintance with Murchison, Buckland, 
Sedgwick and others, no less than Sir Charles 
Lyell; but his modesty is greater than his 
celebrity, and though he may have correspond- 
ence, Mr. Tappan thinks, with Murchison, he 
doubts if he has with any out of London. 
Whether your husband has any knowledge 
(private) of H. is of no manner of concern. He 
is a diffident recluse, as our country divines too 
commonly are; and will do no discredit to our 
nation, if a fair opportunity is afforded. He 
expects to see in Edinburgh the real figure of 
one of the gigantic birds, whose footprints he 
found so abundant at Turner's Falls. The 
specimen was from New Zealand, and he hopes 
it will stand near fifteen feet high. His happi- 
ness would be a subject of envy to me, as it 
arises from the delight of visiting England and 
enjoying its intellectual society; but my turn 
of operations of mind so widely differ from his, 
that it would give me very slight pleasure to be a 
partaker at the Edinburgh meeting. 

Great satisfaction we all felt, and Lucy 
especially, at the coming yesterday of Cousin 
Mary C. Lincoln from Hingham. She will 
remain with us for some time. 



128 

Pray make my gratefuUest regards known 

to Robert Rogers and his dear wife, and forget 

not 

Your affectionate, 

Jas. Savage. 

Lunenburg, 19 June, 1850. 
To HIS Daughter. 

My dear Child, — Almost a fortnight has run 
since your letter of 4th Inst, came to my hands, 
and almost a week since we came up to Sunny 
Hill. Well you can easily conceive what oc- 
cupations filled these spaces. Not a half dozen, 
nor half score, but half a hundred things must 
be thought on before leaving town, and now we 
find one or another was forgotten. Here we 
have almost become domesticated. The same 
glorious panorama, a more than usual vividness 
of verdure, the lively breezes and the trans- 
parent atmosphere are here as before. Who 
are not here — is the perpetually intruding 
thought, especially at morning and evening 
assemblies of the household. Shall the setting 
out of trees be attended to ? Your dear mother* 
will not watch their growth, and rejoice in the 

*Mrs. Savage died Jan., 1850. 



129 

shade. What care need be given to fruits or 
flowers ? Lucy * will not find her Hfe in either. 
But you must not suppose, that my hours are 
gloomy. Busily I work all the time at my 
genealogies, and so forget the present in hunting 
relationships of the long past. My occupation 
was never so agreeable to me, because never so 
successful in getting at results. 

Probably Mary f or Harriet Holway has 
given you everything that could be news of 
this neighborhood. Improvement is quite per- 
ceptible. Cunningham has built his barn, 
longer even than last year projected. It ex- 
ceeds any in town. Our nearest neighbor on 
the top of our hill (his name is, I believe, Hut- 
chinson) has put up a handsome barn too; 
and Mr. Low (his father-in-law) in a strait line 
back of us, quarter of a mile distant, has built 
a smart house. My peach trees promise you 
some fruit, and the apples talk of having a 
show. But I can add no more, than hopes of 
seeing you within three weeks. I mean to send 
your husband in ten days a check for money 
enough to bear your expenses in coming; and 

* His youngest daughter Lucy died in May, 1850. 
■[• Wife of Judge Gushing. 



I30 

pray make your nearest neighbor, Robert and 
his wife, understand what pleasure they could 
give at Sunny Hill, perhaps receive a little. 
The trouble of journey from Philadelphia here 
is not half equal to that from Charlottesville 
to Richmond. If health be the object of motion, 
why here we lavish it all abroad; and one day 
is equal in repair of lungs and general exhilara- 
tion to a fortnight's breathing at Philadelphia 
or any spot within fifty miles of it. 

Bless you, my dear Emma, and remember 
that he who blesses is 

Your father, 

Jas. Savage. 
Boston, Dec. ii, 1850. 

To HIS Son-in-Law, Wm. B. Rogers at the 
University of Virginia. 



My dear Son, — Now for my dear Emma 
I must say a few words. Geo. S. Hillard's 
lecture at opening of the young men's Mer- 
cantile Library for the season was admirable, 
and the attention of a crowded assembly in our 
largest (Tremont Temple) hall, was not for an 
instant diverted from him. It was on the duties, 



131 

honors, rewards, trials, temptations of the youth- 
ful merchant. It could not have been more suc- 
cessful. 

Bevis is not sent away to exile, but Mary keeps 
him at her house, very well contented, much 
more so than Grip * is with us. But James 
hopes to sell G. and if he can, B. must come 
back. Two are rather more than a town house 
is fit for. In the country, they did perfectly, 
but they are too noisy in their play for our 
quiet neighborhood. 

You must not write as if you were anxious 
about my working too hard. In the library, I 
spend few hours a day, not above six, for I do 
not trust myself to write by lamps over an hour 
a day on the average; and the days are so short, 
and that room so cold, that I will not begin to 
work on my register until the fire has been three 
or four hours alight. So I go abroad in the 
evenings, good five of the seven; and give some 
hours to reading; yet every day add a line or 
two, but not much more. Visitors are very 
numerous, wishing to see what I have gathered 
about their forefathers, and letters, you know, 
come from such men as Mr. Judd, or ladies as 
Miss Calkins, which will by their voluminous 

* The Scotch terrier. 



132 

matter require no short time to read, much 
longer to condense and confirm, and no Httle 
time to reply unto. Seldom do I get home from 
Insurance office and Bank before noon; and 
then surely it is not but two hours to dinner; 
after dinner we have sunlight but one and a 
half hours. As yet I perceive no failure in 
eyesight of the slightest degree. Still it is not 
safe to try the organ by writing in lamp light, 
and much less is so employed than in read- 
ing. 

We begin to feel secure as to national politics. 
No doubt there are a few here, who knowing 
nothing of the degradation from which the U. S. 
Constitution raised us, might run the risk of 
dashing that to pieces to gratify their exclusive 
philanthropy, that is philanthropy, excluding all 
of mankind but slaves; and very many would 
be led astray by those few. These are com- 
pelled to acknowledge, that the doctor's medicine 
had better be taken than die of the disease. 
But we have full enough ready to reject the only 
medicine, though the majority have wisely taken 
alarm. 

Yours truly, 

Jas. Savage. 



133 

Boston, 3 March '51. 
To Mrs. Rogers. 

My dear Child, — James' term at College has 
begun, and so my little variety at home is 
lessened. But my library is as happy a place 
as ever, because I am more dependent on its 
attraction. Re-examination is, indeed, almost 
the sole employment, for my work has got in 
advance over blank paper not above one page 
since last October; but interlineations make 
many new pages, and many also are deformed 
by erasures. Lunenburg is the place for ap- 
parent progress; in Boston, besides my social 
engagements, and numerous calls of business 
abroad, very numerous inquiries and commu- 
nications about matters of local history or 
genealogy demand attention some times for 
one hour, not seldom for one day or one week. 
But progress is really made, though it may not 
always be apparent. Yet my exact design may 
not be fulfilled before I die. With five years 
unbroken health I could finish it; but then a 
license must be secured for a supervision of 
Winthrop's History, if it be called for. 

Your Aunt Bruce,* who filled her eighty third 
year three weeks since, come tomorrow, was 

* A sister of Mr. Savage. 



134 

very well, as I heard, last week. But why she 
should not live to ninety three, nobody can 
assign a shadow of reason. 

Now let me close with hoping, that four 
months from today you may be able to come 
once more to the arms of 

Your affectionate father 

Jas. Savage. 



Boston, 3 March '51. 

To Prof. Wm. B. Rogers, at the Univer- 
sity OF Virginia. 

My dear Son, — We shall outlive the 

trouble of the fugitive slave law. To enforce 
it in Massachusetts will not be difficult, except 
in certain inland parts, where the occurrence of 
a seizure of a case is unlikely to occur, except 
in a fictitious one, I mean, where the master 
would rather prefer failure. 

Your Virginia question of representative 
basis is a very hard one to settle. A contest 
for power between two sides ought to be 
closed by a compromise, and such must be the 
result in this dispute. Let one side predomi- 
nate in the Senate, and the other in the more 
popular branch. Such was our adjustment in 



135 

old times in Massachusetts. Such was the ter- 
mination of the relative powers under the Fed- 
eral Constitution. 

For your stock of Pennsylvania five per cents, 
95 is too good a price to refuse. They would 
not run so high, were it not for the desire to 
send abroad instead of specie, or bills of Ex- 
change at 10 and ^ advance on nominal par. 
Massachusetts fives are 5 per cent, advance. 
So they all go to England, while City of Boston 
fives are only lyi though for absolute security 
the city is really better, as every man is held 
for payment of principal and interest, and his 
merchandise, or other property may be taken by 
process of law, if City declines or delays to 
make payment; while against the Common- 
wealth nothing but honor can be appealed to. 

For income, certainly, a dozen or twenty 
investments superior to government stocks occur 
daily. Money is in such good demand, that 
the best Railroad shares to give 7 per cent, are 
attainable below par, and those which must 
give eight, are sold from six to ten advance, 
with expectation, of course, of nine or ten per- 
fect dividends to come off in a year or two or 
three. 

I rejoice in the prosperity of your University, 



136 

whose catalogue, which Emma sent me, counts 
up 374 students. 

Pray assure your brother and his wife of 
the kindest remembrance of all their goodness 
to me and mine; and when I forget the atten- 
tion so lavishly bestowed, day and night, on 
the dear object of my anxious cares at this time 
last year, every thing else will pass from the 
failing memory of 

Yours affectionately, 

Jas. Savage. 



Boston, 7 Novr. 1851. 
To HIS Daughter. 

My dear Child, — ^That you have had no letter 
from me for three weeks, you must know how 
to explain without suggestion from me. Yes- 
terday we had dinner one hour before the settled 
time, in order to permit the solemnity of Har- 
riet's marriage after it in season for her husband 
to take her onward towards New York. His 
aunt invited them, and so I shall be left nine 
days nearly without any body to cheer me up, 
except Jamie for his Sunday's visit. 

Well, the affair went off well, and so did the 



137 

parties, Amos* habited in a short frock coat and 
Harriet in travelHng dress. There were pres- 
ent only Mrs. Binney with her two sons, Wm. 
and Henry, if I have his name right, her sister 
Mrs. Wells with her husband, Aunt Hillard, 
George and Susan with Oliver, Mr. and Mrs. 
Bartol, your brother James, Dr. Gannett and 
myself. It was something of a solemnity to 
me, but very much less oppressive, than it must 
have been, had it withdrawn Harriet from the 
protection of my roof. Many sad recollections 
were, of course, revived; and the floods of suf- 
fering that in two years and a half have rolled 
over me seemed to turn me to your wedding 
as the last day of my freedom from all the 
severer sorrows of life. 

James got your letter when he came on 
Thursday to Harriet's wedding. He is in 
glorious condition of health. Let Eliza know, 
how much we are interested in her good estate, 
and willing that she should continue with you 
several days or weeks longer, if she engage to 
grow in flesh and strength with each succeeding 
day or week. 

* Amos Binney. 



138 

Boston, 17 Dec, 1851. 
To HIS Daughter. 

My dear Child, — I dare say, you will be glad 
to get a few words from me, even if they tell 
nothing new. I am in admirable health, and 
have been so every hour since I came into the 
city. Ah! this coming, however, sadly inter- 
feres with my progress in the great work, for in 
a work it is good working if the result be equal 
to a day's employment at Lunenburg. Now 
it is nine weeks since I reached Boston, and I 
have just finished the fourteenth page, having 
closed at L. with John ii/<3rvard,the ever blessed. 
I have barely finished i/^mmenway. 

Next Monday I go on the excursion with 
some friends of Geo. S. Hillard to attend the 
celebration of the New England Society in 
honor of the Landing of the Pilgrims. George 
is to deliver the Address on this glorious occa- 
sion; and it will be, for I have heard him read 
the larger part, a splendid speech. If pub- 
lished, as it must be, you can judge for yourself. 

We look to see Eliza before this week ends; 
but she may stay at New York until next week 
to hear George, and come back with us. Mary * 
came down from Lunenburg about a fortnight 

*The eldest daughter of Judge Gushing. 



139 

since, in Eliza's carriage, driven by Franklin. 
He told me the two dogs were well. But he 
did not tell me, nor did I hear of it before see- 
ing in yesterday's paper, the death of our very 
aged neighbour at the foot of the hill, Mr. 
Whiting's mother. It was no event of lamen- 
tation, we may feel certain, to her son or his wife 
as ninety two years make any mortal to become 
a burden to friends, if not even to one's self. 
It seemed to me, that she was always willing 
to depart. 

We feel full confidence in the recovery of Judge 
Gushing to his best condition, if he can perse- 
vere in his course of prudence. Every day for 
the two past weeks he has been able to go down 
into Court street, as I hear. 

You may have a glorious opportunity at 
Washington to see and hear of old Boston friends. 
Charge your husband to see our Representa- 
tive, Mr. Appleton, because that house must 
be the most likely place for such advantage. 
If you reach the capital before the close of 
Christmas holidays, no doubt you may find 
comfortable lodgings; but a fortnight later, it 
might be very difficult. Up to fourth of March 
next, there must be a portion, not small, of all 
the preposterous and all the corrupt in our 



I40 

country. Some only for the trifling purpose of 
seeing the new Hungarian Lion; and some for 
the worse object of seeing how the best price 
may be obtained for their influence in the next 
election. 

We have today the coldest temperature by 
many degrees. The glass showed 2^ only above 
o before sunrise, I am told, and believe it easily, 
for at our front door, when the clock struck 
nine, it was only 6, and you know the sun 
must have good influence in the range of the 
Court. 

Today is our annual meeting at Savings 
Bank, being thirty five years since date of our 
Charter, and the seventieth dividend is now in 
an advanced state of preparation. I suppose 
my relation with this most interesting Insti- 
tution must be continued so long as I am able 
to over-look its affairs, though at every other I 
claim the right of withdrawing and requiring 
the labor of younger men. Why should I fill 
half the work places in Boston .? might have 
been a question three years ago. I got out of 
two, three, or four of such situations, and am 
hardly engaged at all now, more than to keep 
me awake to the motions of the world. 

Beg my kind remembrance by your husband, 



141 

his brother and lady, and others who less dis- 
tinctly inquire for 

Your affectionate 

Jas. Savage. 

Boston, 17 January, 1852. 

To HIS Daughter. 

My dear Child, — So much pleasure did your 
letter of Sunday before last give me, that you 
might reasonably expect early answer. But 
then my engagements are too numerous to 
permit so much leisure as would be needed to 
fill up this sheet, although matter enough is 
pressing around me for its completion. 

The winter so far has been equal to what used 
to be boasted of half a century ago. Yesterday 
morning Wainwright says his thermometer in 
Louisburg Square was at 6 minus. But it is 
delightful to me. Never can I remember that 
I enjoyed better health, though thirteen days 
out of fourteen last it has snowed more or less. 
Indeed more than half of the fall in this time 
has been rain, but still so short a continuance 
each time as to permit a slight addition to the 
solid continent of ice in the streets. The 



142 

club at my house this week was quite a trial for 
Harriet's housewifely talents; yet it was, they 
say, of the most agreeable reunions of the season. 
It was very wet walking two hours after sunset, 
but then began the freezing, which was very 
agreeable. 

You have been six days at Washington, and 
the appearance of your husband in the Smith- 
sonian Institute was on Tuesday evening re- 
ceived with great satisfaction, as the Nat. In- 
telligencer of Thursday informs me this morn- 
ing. May he win all the golden opinions I 
desire for him. Our Boston member of Con- 
gress is Mr. William Appleton, whom WiUiam 
must have seen, though he may have less ac- 
quaintance with him than with Nathan. And 
so next Saturday you must go from Washington 
to reach home on Sunday, and enter on duty 
the following day. Very well, young folks must 
work. 

Harriet and Amos are systematic in inhaling 
the pure breezes around the Common; and 
James, who began his vacation of seven weeks 
three days since, is the picture of more rude 
health than is perhaps reputable for a student. 
He anticipates a fruitful season next summer 
and autumn from the copious snow banks now 



143 

visible; and perhaps he looks forward for the 
residue of his life to be intimately conversant 
with the interests and employment of agri- 
culture or horticulture. But he ought also to 
think, how he is to earn his living. Probably 
he is not quite old enough to entertain any 
suspicions about that. 

Your cousin Geo. Hillard's Address before the 
New England Society at New York is not yet 
published; but he is to repeat it, by desire, of 
some Society here next week. What petty 
criticism some New York paper made of it, 
grew out of the application by the audience to 
the Kossuth fanaticism that had reached its 
heighth two days before, and had begun to 
decline on 22 ulto. But this was a very high 
compliment by both parties, for the sentiment 
had been written before the arrival of the great 
Magyar, or Magician. Mr. Kossuth meets 
more sympathy than he ought, because he is 
encouraged by some traders in our national 
politics to raise a commotion, that may turn 
to their profit in the approaching election of 
President; and if likely to go too far, would, 
as they vainly think, be easily controlled. In 
some part, but happily a very small part, a 
war would be agreeable, with any nation; but 



144 

the enthusiasm on false basis, awakened with 
no such ultimate object, may be turned to that 
horrid result. Ah! well! there will not again 
be an opportunity for a President from New 
England, and there need be no fear now, I 
suppose, of Webster's success. He is too im- 
portant a man for such a station in common 
times, and too independent for it at any time 
in the judgment of the few intriguers who seem 
to decide such matters. Give my love to Robert 
and his wife, when you get home; and tell your 
husband, it would be very agreeable to me to 
receive account of his experiences at the great 
Tadmor. Our friends here, I believe are all 
well. I was last evening at the Guilds, where 
father, mother, and the daughter inquired for 
you. 

J AS. Savage. 

Boston, 4 March '52. 
To W. B. Rogers. 

It might seem long, my dear son, to neglect 
answering your letter of i Feb. that was so very 
minute and agreeable to me; but then you 
know, how to make allowances, and that any 
letter from Eliza, Harriet or James to your 
wife is a reply to you unless the letter had been 



145 

about business. There is just now sounding 
the discharge of Artillery in honor of the day, 
you may remind Emma, on which she was 
born, or on which after quadrennial service the 
organization anew of the National government 
is held. Well! this serves admirably to remind 
me how anxiously I carried that dear child 
about in my arms to obtain change of air for her, 
when getting over the long protracted feebleness 
of lungs from the whooping cough. Fire away, 
■fire away^ heavy guns on the Common, when the 
whole earth's surface for many miles is frozen 
and covered with ice and snow, as it was two 
months ago. Ten weeks' steady sleighing have 
we enjoyed, that is those who love to take a 
drive in that manner. And in the country at a 
little distance no doubt this is the fourteenth 
week of unbroken conveyance by runners instead 
of wheels. Yesterday morning the thermometer 
stood at 10°, and this morning the same, so 
you may well suppose we have a fair specimen 
of best winter weather. I much rejoice in it, 
for my health was never better, if even so good; 
and the bracing atmosphere is highly exhilarat- 
ing. 

James left us last evening after his six weeks 
vacation, which has been passed, probably, with 



146 

less profit than pleasure. But he has given 
large share of attention to music. 

You have before this day received the news 
of Amos and Harriet's excursion to France en 
route for Italy, designed to begin next week. 
I gave way reluctantly to their desire, but hope 
it may be the means of rendering such another 
flight unnecessary. We can be certain of noth- 
ing in such a detestable condition of affairs 
as now prevails in France; but as the motive 
of health is the dominant one with these young 
folks, they can have little excuse for protracting 
their absence beyond the last week of June or 
first of July. But it is some matter of anxiety, 
what shall be done with me while they are gone. 
Well enough shall I get on until the preparation 
for going up to Sunny Hill begins in the latter 
part of May. And now I want you, if any ways 
it can be, to let Emma come on to me two or 
three days before the close of that month. 
Nothing need detain me in Boston, indeed, 
later than 26th but if E. were here, she, no 
doubt, would be looking round for this, that, 
and the other, commodity in some shop, that 
must be acquired before departure. 

Genealogy has thriven very moderately since 
the middle of October. Not three pages a week 



147 

has been my average, though yesterday I made 

progress through one and a quarter. This 

letter H which occupied my standing * hours 

in the first week of Oct. will hold me imperiously 

through March and part of April. But the next 

members of the Alphabet, I. J. and K., are small 

folks, and can be disposed of before thinking of 

Sunny Hill as my resting place. 

Love to your bro. Robert and his wife, and 

be sure of 

Yours 

Jas. Savage. 

Boston, 8 April '52. 
To HIS Daughter, Mrs. Rogers. 

My dear Child, — Very glad was I to get your 
letter of 3rd yesterday; and now this morning 
we see in the telegraph intelligence from Steamer 
Africa arriving last evening at New York, that 
the Franklin from New York 13 ulto. reached 
the Isle of Wight on 25th so that Harriet was 
lucky as my anticipation, and was actually on 
shore, no doubt, at Havre in less than a fort- 
night after departure from our shores. 

Your reference to the conflagration of the 

♦ Much of his work was done at a standing desk. 



148 

Tremont Temple reminds me, that near as it 
was to us, nobody in our house had any knowl- 
edge of it before the morning's Advertiser at our 
breakfast table. Yet the fall of the larger part 
of the front wall shook the whole town for half 
a mile. It had been my good fortune to have 
the Trustees of the Boston Library at supper in 
the evening, and all of us were sleeping more 
soundly than usual, I suppose, between one and 
two o'clock when the alarm was given, or at 
four when the wall fell. As to the new con- 
trivance for communicating information about 
the quarter in which the fire is, so far it is as yet 
only offered for inquiry; and after the city 
authorities have adopted it (if they ever do) we 
shall suffer little anxiety from ignorance of the 
scene of disaster. Besides this failure of means 
of spreading report of the spot, where relief was 
to be carried, probably the secret creeping of the 
fire had diffused the mischief through half of 
the upper part of the edifice before any detection. 
Now it is hardly lamented much, as it was so 
insecure a building. People who attended that 
evening early a lecture, with very great crowd of 
auditors, seem to exult almost in its destruction, 
at least hope that whatever may come in its 
place, shall be more secure. 



149 

You may see in the newspapers how we were 
visited on Monday night, or rather on Tuesday 
morning with a most severe snow storm. The 
quantity that fell exceeded that of any one dis- 
pensation of the whole year. It was a fair two 
feet deep in our court; but as the weather has 
been, generally, warmer since with bright sun- 
shine, the quantity is reduced by three fourths. 
In most of the wide streets the pavements begin 
to reappear. Probably we shall see the good 
of it next week in the growth of the grass, and 
the coming forward of buds in the shrubs and 
early trees. 

Yours affectionately 

J AS. Savage. 



Boston, 21 April, 1852. 

To HIS Daughter. 

My dear Child, — You may well complain, 
that so much time has elapsed since date of 
yours of 3rd Inst, which was answered im- 
mediately after its coming, when by your very 
next letter to Boston your lonely state was de- 
scribed as your husband had been obliged to 
come to Philadelphia to see poor James in 



ISO 

perilous situation.* But from the first day 
after reception of that news, that is Sunday 
before last, I have not been able to get up to 
Judge Cushing's to inquire if Eliza had written 
to you, nor has she been down town to us. In 
the whole ten days only two have been fair, 
and one of them was so wet with the melting of 
deep snow, that it was as hazardous to walk 
about in as a perpetual rain. Yesterday I got 
encouraging letter of last Friday by your hus- 
band, which makes me feel almost certain of 
the restoration of his brother. By Geo. S. 
Hillard, too, I am told that Henry has called 
for attendance forthwith of his fellow laborers in 
the field, and must forego the expectation he had 
formed of going into Nova Scotia on short ex- 
cursion. 

Dr. Hayward and his wife will next Monday 
leave here for Richmond to attend the Con- 
vention of Medical Science for the Union, he 
being one of the Vice Presidents, and by ap- 
pointment from a former meeting bound to 
make two Reports. 

From Harriet I got a short letter of the date of 
26th ulto. off Cowes, as the ship stopped to land 

* James Bly the Rogers, of University of Pennsylvania; eldest brother of 
WiUiam Barton Rogers. 



the mail and passengers at Isle of Wight, but 
was forthwith to proceed to Havre. She hoped 
next night to be as far as Rouen on the way to 
Paris, there not to stop many hours, yet long 
enough to write. 

It would be very comfortable to me to know, 
what address to put on my letters, but it may be 
that Baring Brothers & Co., London, must be 
well enough for any thing this side of heaven. 

I was last week called on to furnish for a new 
work in England some pages of Pedigree, which 
was obeyed with a will, as the sailors say, it 
being for the family of my admirable friend, who 
has been dead to be sure more than two hundred 
years, Govr. Winthrop. So your husband must 
not think that my work made any but snail's 
progress of half a page in the whole week. 
Next week, if it ever clears away enough to 
justify an expectation of two days of sunshine 
in sequence, I hope to get a run up to New 
Hampshire to visit the widow of your uncle 
Arthur. Even the two miles out to Cambridge- 
port I have not yet traversed since last July to 
see Aunt Bruce. The weather has been beyond 
the experience of forty years, many say, I feel 
sure of thirty; and I can hardly be glad enough 
that Amos and Harriet escaped the trial. This 



152 

is James's birthday, the fourth of the Easterly- 
storm, in which many vessels have been lost; 
and I am glad to say, that some slight signs ap- 
pear of the exhaustion of its malignity. We get 
on in housekeeping very comfortably, and never 
was better the health of 

Yours affectionately 

Jas. Savage. 

Boston, April 30, 1852. 

My dear Child, — Your letter of 21st was very 
gratifying with its relation of return of your 
husband to his appropriate duties in the Uni- 
versity. 

We have very pleasant accounts from Harriet, 
each better, so far, than its predecessor. Her 
first letter was of 26th from Cowes, of which I 
wrote you the substance. 

This day I should have been at Hopkinton, 
but am detained by sudden death on Wednes- 
day of our deacon Tarbell, whom you may 
remember. So I must wait until Monday, and 
hope no further postponement. Before this 
week on Monday I had not been this year be- 
yond the lines of the city. Then I went over 



153 

to see your aunt Bruce, who is advanced nearer 
to close of life than when I saw her last, but 
that was in July, by no perceptible degree, un- 
less it be in deafness. She is cheerful enough, and 
seemed to make a boast of being in her 85th year. 

Last week came here from England my 
admirable friend, the Honorable Edward 
Twisleton, who is on a mission to complete 
the engagement made last October, in marry- 
ing Miss Dwight of Park Street. He most par- 
ticularly made me promise to give his kindest 
regards to you and your husband. Probably 
they will be half way to England before you 
reach Boston. 

You remember our stout Irish girl, Mrs. 
Willey's daughter, named I believe Maria. 
Well, we hear she was married last week. She 
had left us some three months ago, for as she 
had hopes of this promotion in life, Harriet 
thought she grew saucy. 

Yesterday afternoon I took tea at Judge's, 
and found Eliza and all the children exceedingly 
well. A new pair of horses is, at present, the 
great object of desire, and of course there is no 
difficulty but in making selection. So long as 
this is undetermined, Eliza will be well to a 
certainty, and after the purchase I shall hope, 



154 

that some of the satisfaction may consist in the 
enjoyment of their services, by her friends and 
herself. 

WiUiam will be pleased, with the sermon of 
Dr. Gannett that I sent yesterday in a news- 
paper. He will go on a very long journey to the 
Mississippi in ten days. 

Your alFct. father 

J AS. Savage. 
Boston, i6 May, 1852. 

To HIS Daughter. 

My dear Child, — Before receipt of your letter 
this morning, anxious anticipation has been 
pressing on me for ten days, that you must be 
unable to comply with your engagement to come 
on next week. Your duty is plain enough, 
to stay by your husband, to alleviate his anx- 
ieties, to soothe his sorrows, perhaps in some 
petty things, which become great things in sit- 
uations of distress, to lighten his labors. I 
have thought much about good Mr. James 
Rogers, his wife, and children; but nothing is 
within my power to do or supply, except this 
foregoing for a few days my pleasure in seeing 
you. Easily enough shall I get up to Sunny 



155 

Hill, either the latter part of next week, on Fri- 
day would be my earliest leisure, or on Mon- 
day or Tuesday after, still before i June. 

James got from Harriet by the last Thursday 
morning steamer here a letter of 15-19 April at 
Rome, of great length, about all the wonderful 
things in art, ancient and modern, about the filth 
and other discomforts of the modern city, and 
leaving us to infer, that her health continued as 
by last date preceding. Indeed she complains 
of the cold, and says they must go farther 
North to be more comfortable. Perhaps she 
means only a more agreeable part of Italy, as 
Florence or Pisa or the lake of Como. 

My work of Genealogy has not wholly 
stopped, but moves slowly. Now I am on the 
last name of letter H. into which I had made 
some advance when you left Lunenburg. G. 
filled a hundred pages, and H. demands a hun- 
dred and fifty seven. 

I close this scrawl, that it may go by first mail 
since yours came to my hands, begging full 
sympathy to be assured to your husband and 
undiminished affection to yourself, kind re- 
membrances to Robert and his wife from 

Yours 
Jas. Savage. 



To HIS Daughter. 



156 

Lunenburg, ii June, 1852. 



My dear Child, — ^You will readily suppose, 
that I had enough to do at Boston in getting 
ready to remove for the summer to this hill 
side, or hill top rather, to justify my postpone- 
ment of reply to your questions. 

James came into town on Tuesday morning 
quite unwell, having over-done a good work 
by seven miles walk and taking cold after it 
on Monday afternoon; and I called Dr. Hay- 
ward to control his regimen. 

The air is rather too cold for comfort, with- 
out fire; but the appearance of the country is 
delightful, and I want you here to partake the 
enjoyment. 

Though the sun is shining very bright, our 
temperature is very low, so that we must have 
fire as in March. Still the children have run 
out into the grass, and gathered some two or 
three small spoonfuls of strawberries; of course 
I presume you will understand me to mean wild 
ones. Those in the beds are just come into 
blow, but we expect favorable produce. 

We had two or three warm days in Boston; 
but not two in succession. I used a blanket 
every night but one, and several nights this 



157 

month both blanket and quilt. Your Aunt 
Savage went on Tuesday to New Bedford to 
visit the Arnolds, James S. Cooper, with his 
wife and daughter having gone off on Monday 
afternoon for Niagara. 

Bevis and Grip seem quite gratified with our 
arrival, perhaps in confident expectation of 
better supply of food. 

Yours, with tenderest regards for your hus- 
band, 

J AS. Savage. 



Lunenburg, 21 June, 1852. 
To HIS Daughter. 

My dear Child, — I wrote you the day after 
reaching this loved retreat, and no doubt was 
in so much of a hurry, as to omit half of what 
should have been said. Next week shall you 
set out for the North ? The first day of July 
being Thursday, and Sunday the 4th the ob- 
streperous and dangerous parades, with burn- 
ing of gunpowder, and drunkenness, usually 
accompanying the celebration of our day of 
national independence, must be postponed to 
the 5th. Now I am very desirous you should 
not be in motion on any railroad car or steam- 



158 

boat on that day of the Saturnalia. If you 
were quietly housed at Judge Cushing's in Bos- 
ton, or up here, there would be no peril. All will, 
I know, depend on the control of time that may 
be in the power of the Professor. He will long 
to be at Philadelphia, if his brother be living; 
and be more anxious still, if he is not. There, 
I suppose, he must stop for some time, after 
•sending you forward. In Philadelphia, if you 
pass the noisy jifth, I shall feel as easy about 
you, as if you were in Boston. Harriet and 
Amos will reach home on the seventh, as the 
letters received last Friday inform me, from 
Paris, 2nd Inst, of the passage being engaged 
for the steamer Canada to sail next Saturday, 

You may have two or three days' occupation 
after reaching Boston; though more than two 
of the indispensable calls or visits may be done 
in a day. But the Guilds expect you at Brook- 
line, with great confidence. You know how 
easy it is to get there, the railroad station being 
only a third of a mile from their house. But 
Sam. E. Guild's office, where his father attends 
every morning, is at the same door with Cousin 
George S. Hillard's. So you may send a note 
any morning before he goes out to dinner. 

James has quite renewed his health, and goes 



159 

down to recommence his studies this afternoon. 
You must write to him, as well as to us, up here, 
to inform what day you will expect to reach 
Boston. Every thing here looks well. On Sat- 
urday morning I had two of the noble large 
strawberries, the first, from our vines. This 
week they will be plenty, and become more so 
next week; but unless the weather be very dry 
indeed, or very wet indeed, there will be abun- 
dance for you three weeks hence. 

On Wednesday of next week I go to Boston 
to be on the spot for attending to half a dozen 
pieces of business on i July, and come up here 
again that evening. On 6th I will, of course, 
go down again to meet Harriet the next day, 
and, unless it be intolerably hot, may stay a 
couple of days. 

Let not your husband fail to spend with us all 
the vacation he can spare from Philadelphia. 
May he have the satisfaction of receiving the 
conscious expressions of brother James's regard, 
is the best wish, under all the circumstances, 
that should be uttered by 

Yours, with deepest affection, 

Jas. Savage. 



i6o 

Lunenburg, 21 Sept., 1852. 

To HIS Daughter. 

My dear Child, — You have had no more equi- 
noctial storm, it may be hoped, than we have, 
and up to this time have enjoyed the mountains, 
and the alternations of autumnal fogs and clear 
sunshine that belong to the season. But you 
would like to be told, I dare say, that we have 
gone on in the same petty circle of eating peaches 
that seem to be three quarters of sugar, writing 
in the genealogical trammels, which surely is 
as much my pleasure as my occupation, one 
hour to backgammon, and seven to sleep. 

It is nearly time to think of gathering in the 
harvest of Sunny Hill, but the weather is so 
glorious, that we confine ourselves to the trees. 
Apples we shall know not what to do with, ex- 
cept in the way of cooking in the season coming 
at Boston; but the superabundance of peaches 
the pig can divide with us. To three, four or 
five neighbors we have sent, but so many people 
raise them, that it is not easy to know which 
way to distribute. Some people are complain- 
ing of deficiency of potatoes, and perhaps in 
a small patch our own luck was as bad as that 
of others, who get out of their hills only as 
much, sometimes less, than they put in. 



i6i 

Our disquiet about Mr. Babcock continues, 
but will not, I hope, lead to a separation.* 
Last Sunday, the church was very well filled, 
though Mr. C. was not present. We, who 
know what is the worth of stated services of 
religion on Sundays, and the pastoral care on 
the rest of the week, would much regret to lose 
so conscientious a minister. 

From Amos who went to town last Thurs- 
day, we heard of your having wisely waited 
until that morning before leaving Boston. It 
might have been easy for you, I suppose, to 
reach Pottsville on Friday; but if not, the un- 
certainty of Sound navigation was well avoided. 

As my eyes do not approve of much exercise 
of their power in the lamp light, I close with 
injunction to let me hear from you at earliest 
convenience, unless you have already written, 
and if so, tomorrow, I shall expect, will bring 
a letter to your affectionate father 

J AS. Savage. 

* The minister of the Unitarian Church. 



To HIS Daughter. 



162 

Boston, 12 Octor. 1852. 



My dear Child, — Both of your good de- 
spatches, of 19 ulto., from Pottsville, and 24 
from Easton were duly received at Sunny Hill, 
which we left last Wednesday, and yet we had 
not got established in proper comfort at Temple 
Place before sunset on Saturday. On Sunday 
morning your advice of safe return was received 
from the University. But I meant to begin my 
Boston experience by telling you, that on Friday 
evening I had the great pleasure of meeting 
Lady Lyall at Mrs. Ticknor's, where she is 
visiting, and wholly without other person present, 
than young Dr. Minot. On Sunday evening 
again I saw her for a few minutes. She was 
very glad to hear of you; and of course I thought 
her very agreeable. Her facility of conversation, 
without pretension, without awkward diffidence, 
is a charm. Her husband is expected to come 
to town to-day from the exploration he has been 
engaged upon, with Hall of New York, of the 
morains near the Tachonic range on the borders 
of Berkshire I believe. The demand of seats 
for his course of lectures at the Lowell Institute, 
which begins next Tuesday, was so large, that 
only one in three, of the applicants, are to be 



i63 

furnished with tickets. Mr. Lowell has not yet 
returned home. When Mr. Lawrence * comes, 
there is to be a grand reception, or at least a 
dinner of congratulation. 

Harriet says, that your aunt Savage this fore- 
noon called to see her, and remarked, that Mrs. 
Baird had been expecting to make you a visit at 
Lunenburg, when she should receive from you 
notice of a favorable time. 

The Judge's children are very well, the two 
elder having interrupted me the last minute of 
my writing, so that I must bring this scrawl to a 
close, with assurance of being, as ever. 
Your affectionate father, 

Jas. Savage. 

The Wednesday club begins to-morrow even- 
ing, and The Boston Library Trustees meet 
next. 

Boston, 31 October, 1852. 
To HIS Daughter. 

It would seem very strange, my dear child, if 
to your letter of 10 Inst, no reply should be 
made in three weeks; but every thing did not 

♦Minister to Court of St. James. 



1 64 

concur to make easy the answer, and on Thurs- 
day last I got the satisfactory evidence in an- 
other epistle of 24th, that you were not punc- 
tilious in exacting compensation for one before 
sending a second. 

The house of Rev. Mr. Clark in Pinckney 
Street, concerning which you desired me to 
inquire, is not for sale at present, as your cousin 
George tells me. Probably next year, or after 
the return of Mr. C. it may be. George thinks 
the owner would be willing to sell the house 
lying between his and Clark's; but it is held by 
Willard on a lease of some years. A few days 
since, I attended the sale by auction of a house, 
No. 6 Avon Place, which would suit you and 
William, I think, exceedingly well; and had the 
means of finding half of the purchase money 
been within my reach, I should, certainly, have 
bought it, at small advance on nine thousand 
dollars. Perhaps Avon Place seemed more 
desirable than Pinckney street, because it is 
so short a distance from Temple Place, barely 
crossing Washington Street; and your Aunt 
Savage lodges at No. 3. To be sure, for a few 
weeks in summer, the greater elevation of P. 
street makes the command of pure air more 
sure; but then the seven eighths of our year the 






165 

elevation would be undesirable, and besides you 
would never choose to be in Boston in the season 
between June and October, while Sunny hill 
has a house on it. 

Wisely will you resolve to come to Boston 
before seeing the absolute ownership of a house 
over your head; because there are always 
comfortable ones to be hired, and occasionally 
desirable ones to be purchased. Many, very 
many, are going out of the city to build in some 
of the neighboring towns, to which the Railroads 
give such easy access; many more go to lodge, 
without the burden of housekeeping, in charming 
retreats that afford the revival of their rural re- 
membrances, and promise cheaply the recovery 
of youthful delights. So it will continue to be, 
I doubt not. 

Monday Morning, i Nov. 
You will be rejoiced to hear, that last evening 
a few minutes before nine, your sister Harriet 
was favored with birth of a daughter, a black 
haired child of admirable development, and 
the mother was able to see me one minute before 
I went to bed. It seems to me, as if H. had been 
gaining in health for most of the days since we 
came down to the city. James was here to pass 
his Sunday as usual, and did not, as usual, go to 



1 66 

the College in the evening, but staid to breakfast 
this morning. 

It is proper for me to break off, because I 
have some important matter to attend to before 
dinner. 

With kindest remembrance to your husband, 
I am, dear child, 

Your affectionate father 

Jas. Savage. 

Boston, 23 Novr. 1852. 
To HIS Daughter and her Husband. 

My dear Children, — Your agreeable report of 
10 Inst, did not come Northv^ard v^ith the 
regular punctuality of the mail, and there is, 
no doubt, some cause of failure to be counted 
almost regular, though some opportunity for 
oscillation is allowed in loss of tv^o or of five 
days. 

With great diligence I have turned over into 
various lights the subject you present of leaving 
the University, and coming to reside at Boston. 
For the degree of aid that I shall gladly con- 
tribute to make your residence here comfort- 
able, no delay is needed to decide. I can for 
some years to come, v^ithout embarrassment in 



16/ 

my pecuniary affairs, such as no man of my years 
ought to subject himself to, allow you at the 
rate of one thousand dollars a year, half in July, 
half in January. Why I can do no more, is 
partly from my being in debt to about seventeen 
or eighteen thousand dollars, which, before 
going to the long and narrow house, I would 
gladly reduce, if not extinguish. Another part 
of my excuse is, that, having long been accus- 
tomed to pay small sums, periodically, in charity, 
I can hardly stint my nature to nothing; besides, 
that of four widowed sisters, three are, in some 
degree, dependent on my ability to do what 
justice requires in their support. 

Now what influence this may have in govern- 
ing your decision about coming to Boston for 
residence, is not for me to guess. What can be 
your profitable employment of time and what 
in this part of the world will never be known, 
until it is tried. Some call there is for science in 
many directions, but chiefly the practical mathe- 
maticks, as engineering must continue to direct 
railroads in every five miles of New England. 
To give up a certainty for uncertainty, is not 
the common course of wisdom; but in your 
case, very likely, it may be sublime discretion. 

Authorship makes part, probably a large part, 



i68 



of your views of devotion for your time. It is 
well; but then profit is to follow such employ- 
ment, or it is worse than idleness. Yet my 
practice you may think inconsistent with my 
doctrine. I have just now undertaken the 
over-sight of a new edition of my Winthrop's 
History, with additions and corrections; and 
am to have no other compensation than a very 
few copies. But then reputation is a good thing 
to extend. Emolument came twenty five years 
ago with the last preceding service; and if the 
Genealogical Dictionary is published in my 
life time, some fair return for ten years work is 
more likely to be got, if the public see, in my new 
devotion to Winthrop, that my diligence is not 
relaxed nor my judgment weakened by the long 
lapse of time. Both of the works may be going 
forward at the same time; for indeed one would 
rather advance than disorder the other. 

We have great expectations of the faculties 
to be developed by the young granddaughter. 
What energy of voice she can exert, when dis- 
quieted by any external or internal cause! My 
ears! if she could not have been heard half 
through our Court yesterday. However part 
of the exertion was owing to a surgical experi- 
ment of Dr. Hayward to give her pure lymph by 



169 

vaccination. She seems to have an adequate 
capacity to sleep, and that is one of the best 
shows that any child of her age can exhibit. 

Glad am I at the reports you send me of your 
brother Robert's success, of which no doubt 
could have been felt; and more at the story of 
Rachel becoming equal to her hard lot. Its 
alleviations, in such children, will show what a 
happy condition widowhood may be made. 

If you take resolution to resign your Pro- 
fessorship before the middle of your term, I 
suppose it will be incumbent on you to fill the 
chair until the end of June. Is it so .? 

Yours in truest affection, 

Jas. Savage. 



To HIS Daughter. 



Boston, i January, 1853. 



My dear Child ^ — Most heartily wishing you 
a happy new year, and the more eagerly because 
so long time has elapsed since my last to you. 

I have made some progress in the reprint 
of Winthrop about one sixth of Vol. i. being 
finished. It will be a handsome book, on 
larger type than the former Edition. No more 



170 

unoccupied hours for six months can await me, 
if my health continue good as now. For be- 
fore sending to press the old pages, all are care- 
fully examined to see what cause for correction, 
or room for improvement exists. Of course 
genealogy lies by to a great degree, for I have 
in a month past advanced not above a Lunen- 
burg day's progress. 

Every body almost of whom you would wish 
to hear is well. That Amos Lawrence died 
last Friday morning, you are informed by the 
newspapers. He had made his usual rounds 
of benevolence the day before, and parted in 
the evening with intimate friends as usual. 
So most people call the departure sudden, when 
it is five or six and twenty years since that epi- 
thet would have been just. Was ever any of 
the sons of men more ready for his summons.^ 

Your husband's letter fills me with delight, 
because we have been separated so long, that 
I seem almost isolated from the world, while 
in Boston; though really it is much more true 
at Lunenburg, yet there my dearest are nearest. 
Some years may still revolve between me and 
the grave; but how many or how few is for our 
good concealed. Let me work, while the day 
lasts, and the final hour may come sooner or 



I/I 

later; though it is feared my example of suffer- 
ing by long protracted decay would not be edi- 
fying. To myself I seem to grow younger every 
month, yet nobody insinuates that it is approach 
of second childhood to your 

Affectionate 

Jas. Savage. 

Boston, 24 January '53. 
To HIS Daughter. 

My dear Child, — Your words of 7th instant 
were very acceptable; and though it is a fort- 
night today since they came to hand, you know 
well how to excuse the failure of reply. The 
work of Winthrop should be completed before 
the last day of May, when we go to Sunny Hill; 
yet my fears preponderate, and the devil's imps 
may be permitted by the great adversary to 
revenge his cause upon me, who have so con- 
stantly derided his power. But if my printers 
proceed as diligently as for the last ten days, 
the last word may be struck off before the mid- 
dle of that month. 

Your letter of last week to Harriet came on 
Saturday. So you had learned that the darling 
child was named, or to be named, Lucy. The 



1/2 

solemn service of baptism was held in our par- 
lor on Wednesday before last, and it was my 
resolve to have her, in the evening introduced 
to our club, which met at my house. But she 
was too much engrossed in her sleep to have 
that honor. If she have the heavenly temper, 
even without the exquisite vivacity of her dear 
departed namesake, she may diffuse abundant 
joy and light upon her parents. In her wean- 
ing, that seemed necessary, three weeks since, 
she pined very little, and last week had scarla- 
tina as mildly as the kine pox before. 

My thoughts were drawn to you last week 
by a present from Mr. Coolidge of two of those 
splendid pippins of Albemarle County. Some 
part of Virginia, therefore, I can hardly avoid 
loving. 

25 Jf^'^y- In preparation for the Winthrop I 
keep ahead of the printer, so that his toe be 
not too near my heel. Two hundred pages are 
printed; but that grows out of 175 of the former 
edition. Great satisfaction is felt from the 
prospect of having put before the world what 
I desired long to do. 

Thackeray was wonderfully successful here. 
Five of his six lectures I heard, and think very 
well of them, with the qualification, that they 



173 

are written for oral delivery, not to be studied 
in print. Altogether the matter was of a bio- 
graphical character, strictly, affording no high 
criticism on the works of the author whose life 
was under the artist's hand. No works were 
referred to, except Hogarth's, unless for the 
purpose of furnishing details of the writer's pri- 
vate or public career. 

If your uncles, George and Sam,* come to 
visit you at the University, pray entreat them 
to give me a visit next summer, between June 
and October at Sunny hill. They must not 
often expect to see their sister Rebecca at 
Brooklyn, yet if they come to visit her so far, 
the addition of eleven hours more railroad 
would bring them to meet you and the other 
children of their departed sister. Let this be 
enforced on their minds. Life is long enough, 
if we would only think so; and whenever a dear 
friend is lost to us, who lived not two days 
journey from us, and we met not for the last five 
years, a pang of regret mixes with the reflection, 
how easy might have been the meeting effected. 

Yours, 

Jas. Savage. 

* George and Sam Stillman, brothers of Mrs. James Savage, and living 
in Virginia. 



To HIS Daughter. 



174 

Boston, 27 Febr., 53. 



My dear Child y — It seems a very long time 
since I last wrote a word to you, and truly it is 
'quite three weeks since the date of your des- 
patch from Richmond informing me of your 
reaching that city that evening. But then you 
are in the situation of a gatherer from other 
sources, bound to return to each, though all 
have communication with each other. Eliza, 
Harriet, and James always take care to allow 
me to partake in the letters they get from you; 
as do I to them. 

James, you know, must leave us in three 
days, and he has given one hour a day to my 
genealog. researches by reading to me from a 
private newspaper, that had copies from the 
old records of Woburn. Such is part of my 
preparation for the work that I shall not, prob- 
ably, live to finish, for it may take as long as 
already has been given to it, that is seven years. 
However no anxiety touches me about the 
affair, such as was felt before reimpression of 
Winthrop began. So great progress has been 
attained in that undertaking, that the first sheet 
of the second volume was by me returned yes- 
terday to the printer. Quite a good looking 



175 

work will be the new edition. The work will 
be sought for, fifty years hence, in libraries, 
though it may never be 3. popular book; and my 
name will be kept up by it, when nobody alive 
can remember your assiduous father. 

Very pleasant letter by the last steamer I got 
from my admirable friend Mr. Hunter, enclos- 
ing copy of a note by Lord Braybrook to his 
fifth edition of Pepys's Memoirs, in which he 
acknowledges my service in enabling him to 
correct an error about Sir George Downing, who 
was one of the first class ever graduated at our 
Harvard College and nephew of our first Gov- 
ernour Winthrop. So I must soften the men- 
tion of his Lordship's concurrence in the uni- 
versal error, and may feel bound to send him 
a copy of my work. But my freedom of re- 
mark, unpleasant to many sufferers, would 
turn severe comments, if upon the noble Editor 
I bestowed any blandishments. If ever any 
body was less afraid of comments, however, 
for publishing notes embodying sincere opin- 
ions, nor scrupulously expressed in hesitating 
phraseology, he must have been an easy, if 
not an impudent man. I would give no 
writer or worker in our country's history der- 
ogatory epithets, if he did not deserve them; but 



1/6 

never would I restrain, if he did deserve, cen- 
sure. 

Monday, 28 Feb, We have a young flight of 
snow this forenoon, but how old it is to grow, 
is wholly uncertain, for nobody can tell, whether 
the wind will be Northeast or Southeast, when 
it freshens. Yesterday, however, the snow- 
drops came into blossom, and the crocus in 
sunny places threw its strong shoots into the 
open air. 

I break off, to get this scrawl into the mail, 
by assurance of 

Your affectionate father 

J AS. Savage. 



Boston, id April, *53. 
To HIS Daughter. 

My dear Child, — All your letters are very 
interesting to me, but the last of 29 March 
seemed peculiarly so, because it referred so 
much to your views of leaving Virginia to come 
to pass the residue of your days, or at best of 
my days, in your native place. But one thing 
you say about going with your husband to assist 
Henry in the Pennsylvania mountains, that 



177 

must be subjected to a qualification. You 
must not think to have my leave to make much 
of a stop there. If WiUiam desires to stay by 
Henry after the 20 July, you must come to 
Sunny Hill, because I can then send James for 
your escort. August and September are more 
pleasant at Lunenburg than in almost any other 
part of the V7orld. 

We have had nobody visiting with us for some 
weeks. Miss Cobb gave us a tolerable portion 
of the winter, and would have come again last 
week; but her grandfather's sudden death last 
Sunday, after few hours' paralysis, prevents 
such gratification for some time yet. She and 
her mother were here only two days before Mr. 
Crocker's death. I had promised myself the 
benefit of a visit from Mr. Judd,* but a letter 
from him last week denies me this pleasure. 
However I had written to him before, that he 
must give me larger benevolence, if he post- 
poned his aid until summer, and must feel the 
propriety of my compromise. Winthrop so 
occupies my time, that I could hardly give two 
hours a day to the genealogy, if Judd were here 
with all his apparatus. More than half of the 
second volume of W. is already printed, and I 
am quite easy, if my life be spared to finish this; 

* Sylvester Judd of Northampton ; Antiquarian. 



178 

and could leave the big Dictionary to be pub- 
lished by another hand. 

Because I speak thus of uncertainty in ter- 
minating my labors, you must not think, that 
I am any wise out of health. Probably I have 
not been so well these twenty years. But the 
case of our dear friend Judge Gushing forces 
me to think about the tendency of overstrained 
efforts. He is, you know, resolved at last to 
give up to the advice of friends and his physician; 
and, if he become not more infirm, will embark 
on 5 May for Liverpool in charge of one of his 
brothers. We all hope the remedy of total 
abandonment of his official duties may restore 
him. A voyage would be most effectual course; 
if it be not already too late to adopt it. 

April II. Mr. Binney went up on Friday 
to see about our Lunenburg grounds. Smailes * 
can no longer undertake to do what we want, 
and another hand, one who lives at the point of 
junction of the road running by my house to 
the Fitchburg road, is to be at work this week, 
in seeing for pease, and potatoes, and corn, and 
cucumbers and whatever else may be agreeable. 
We have now promise of early season, which is 
usually unfavorable; but the main value of 

* The old gardener. 



179 

produce of the soil in New England consisting 
in grass, we can never tell before the last week 
of May what may be the yield. 

Little Lucy wins favor every day, especially 
of all the neighbors. Good health is the chief 
virtue a baby can exhibit, and it is very striking 
in her case. Harriet seems to improve daily. 
What our horrid East winds may do, when they 
come, I hardly condescend to fear, so much has 
she gained over any tendency to cough. James, 
too, appears to be growing stouter. Whether his 
horse be used enough at Cambridg<e, I know not. 

Eliza thinks, if she can send off the Judge 
to comfortable voyage in May, she will give 
you a visit in June to assist you in breaking up 
housekeeping. 

Bevis has renewed his youth Amos says at 
L. and will be very glad to see you, as well as 
Your affectionate 

Jas. Savage. 



Boston, 17 May, 1853. 
To HIS Daughter. 

My dear Child, — I have wished for two or 
three days to write to you, and especially be- 



i8o 

cause Eliza who went from us yesterday week, 
and probably reached you on Friday, would 
give you too favorable impression about Har- 
riet's health. 

Dr. Jackson was called yesterday to consider 
her case, and before I close this, I may have a 
conference with him or Hayward to determine 
what is the prudent course for her. 

Gushing sailed on Thursday, and my hopes 
are strong, that he may be wholly restored, for 
he had evidently gained in the three or four 
weeks since making up his resolution to attempt 
saving his life. 

Last Wednesday I followed to his tomb the 
remains of my early friend. Professor Farrar, 
a classmate in college, who for thirteen years 
has been daily tormented by neuralgia, and for 
more than half the time so far overpowered as 
to render life a burden too grievous to be borne; 
yet with such an admirable wife and all favorable 
circumstances surrounding, that life was too 
pleasant to be willingly resigned. May I not 
feel the unwillingness to depart, even without 
enduring one hundredth part of the suffer- 
ing! 



i8i 

This morning was the time for the solemnity 
of the marriage of your young friend Lucy 
Emerson. All good wishes and promises attend 
her. 

You may see Lady Lyell in New York, pos- 
sibly, as you come North, for he and she come 
to the exhibition next month. 

Yours affectionately, as ever, 

Jas. Savage. 
Give my love to your husband and Eliza. 



Lunenburg, 27 June, 1853. 

To William Barton Rogers. 

My dear Son, — I rejoice most heartily, that 
this will, probably, be the last letter you can 
ever expect from me, while bound to that 
University of Virginia, and that even the same 
day that this comes to your hand, you will be 
free from the long engagement. That you 
may feel no slight emotions of regret at parting, 
is easily imagined for you have most honorably 
been treated by the administration of the In- 
stitution, I presume; and certainly you must 
have gained some thing more than mere ex- 
perience in teaching, while so many years em- 
ployed in communicating knowledge to others. 



l82 

So there will always be pleasant associations 
with the vicinity of Charlottesville. 

But now what is before you to rejoice in ? 
Much I hope beside the making me rejoice in 
my child's restoration to me after so many as 
four years' absence. Consider, that four years 
more hardly remain to me to be fulfilled. I 
may live twice four years; but it would be very 
unreasonable to expect it. Never have I en- 
joyed better health, nor spirits, eating and 
sleeping to admiration; yet the year of three 
score and ten draws on apace, and why should 
not my children be near me before my going 
hence to be seen no more. The terrible in- 
security of Harriet's health almost every day 
compels me to think, that I shall probably 
outlive her; and though my confidence in James 
leads me to hope fifty or sixty years more are 
before him, yet he is still green in the experience 
of life, and untaught in the employment that 
is to rule his days. 

That happiness of perpetual engagement you 
will enjoy, when freed from your slavery, as 
much as when you daily labored for task- 
masters. 

You have no time, I dare say, on the reception 
of this letter, to turn to anything but pushing 



i83 

for departure; and I will delay you no longer, 
than to tell, that Judge Gushing reached London 
on I June, was at Chapman's and had begun 
to see sights, on the 3d. 

If you propose to leave Emma to finish the 
latter part of her journey to me alone, you 
must so advise me. Of course you will, I pre- 
sume, come as far as New York to see the 
great exhibition, and the crowds assembled 
from all places under the sun to witness it; and 
what shall hinder your passing some week or 
ten days here either before or after the scien- 
tific meeting at Cleveland, however desirous, 
Henry may be of your assistance .? 

Rejoice with me, I charge you, for in the same 
mail bag that takes this to Boston, goes the last 
page of proof sheet for the very Index of the 
History of Winthrop. Naturally you will con- 
clude, that my attention to this work, for which 
to complete my life was prolonged without an 
hour's interruption since it began last No- 
vember, has delayed the progress of the great 
Dictionary of N. E. Genealogy. Yes, so it has, 
but not interrupted it since the preparation of 
my annotations on W. closed with the month of 
April. Still, very few days, even here, have seen 



1 84 

a whole page of the early settlers transcribed, 
but last week closed the letter N. that had begun 
in Temple Place last month. O. is a short 
letter that can hardly hold me over a fortnight; 
but P is so populous, that I shall hardly finish 
the canvassing of it before going down to winter 
quarters. 

You may not find any great change at Sunny 
Hill, though two of the nearest neighbors, to 
wit. Southwest and Northwest, have just finished 
putting up large new barns; but Bevis wants 
to see you very much. 

If you chance to hear in Virginia any con- 
tempt for Massachusetts Convention to amend 
our Constitution, be submissive, only offering 
the explanation, that our people became tired 
of enjoying the best constitution of any land 
the sun shone upon, and the reformers, or free 
soilers, or abolitionists, or radicals, or by what- 
ever name you would prefer to call them, were 
allowed to have their own way in projecting 
and offering amendments, and great fears are 
entertained, that they will not go so far in the 
architecture of ruin, as to call out the substantial 
yeomanry of the Commonwealth to reject with 
scorn one or another piddling amendments so 
called. No certainty can be felt about any re- 



i85 

suit in the body of the destructionists that will 
affect the core of our institutions; but the men 
who know, they might sigh in vain for an office 
of high responsibility and permanence under 
our present wise system of nomination and 
confirmation by Governor and Council, can 
easily see, how much better is their chance, 
when the place is to be filled by a popular vote 
under dictation of a caucus of demagogues. 
Away with all restraints on the rights of the 
people, is the cry of today; and the dearest 
rights may be lost by a change of administrative 
form in filling the places of solemn importance. 
Well, if we have not the privilege of ruining 
ourselves, what privilege have we ? 

I have, every day, except last Monday and 
Tuesday, when the thermometer ran up to 
98, walked to church or post office, tell Emma, 
and am now going at twelve, noon, to carry 
this evidence of my affection for her and you. 

J AS. Savage. 



Lunenburg, 31 Aug. 53. 
To Prof. R. at Philadelphia. 

My dear Son, — I was gratified yesterday by 
the coming of your despatch from Philadelphia 



1 86 

with post mark of Saturday last, but dated 25th. 
Probably you mistook by one day, or even two, 
the day of the month. It is of more importance 
that you tell me of having daily accounts from 
Emma at Cape May and that she is so well. 

To answer your question about Greenfield 
commission for purchase of fossils made by 
Mr. Marsh, I can only say, that my acquaint- 
ance in that region is almost confined to the 
member of Congress from that District at the last 
session, who is relieved from the slavery by 
their closing his term, Wendell T. Davis, a 
gentleman of established character, nephew of 
my ancient, deceased friend, Judge Davis. 
I suppose, unless he has an interest to swell 
the price, you would be little likely to find any- 
body nearer than Amherst College, whose skill 
in making the requisite bargain would be more 
relied on; but from Amherst will come a strong 
stimulus to raise the price by competition. Or 
not improbable is it, that somebody will author- 
ize Hitchcock to give a round sum, and then 
enjoy the credit of making a splendid benefaction 
to his college. 

Last Saturday evening Dr. Gannett came to 
preach for us on Sunday, but he left us to go to 
town for the purpose of preparing a sermon on 



18; 

Govr. Paine of Vermont, to be delivered to- 
morrow up at his residence, whither his corpse 
has been brought from Texas. Paine was his 
classmate. 

I Sept. 

James begins terms at Cambridge to-day, and 
has, I hope, laid in a stock of health to sustain 
him. He was last week at Taunton and Dighton 
on visit with Eliza. 

Peaches are now exceedingly abundant ten, 
twelve, fourteen dozen a day, and they are 
generally very fine. 

The work goes on well, and my health justifies 
a folio page for each day. 

Yours, 

Jas. Savage. 
Pray kind regards to your brother and his 
wife. 
21 GiRARD St., 

Philadelphia. 



LUNENBERG, 12 SePT. '53. 

To HIS Daughter at Wilkesbarre. 

My dear Child^ — We shall leave Lunenburg 
much earlier than I desired, out of regard to 
the comfort of Harriet, whose health fluctuates 



i88 

with every change of the atmosphere, and at 
times alarms me very much. Probably the 
last day of Septr. may find or carry the last of 
our circle; but some preparation in town is first 
necessary. 

Yesterday we had Mr. Stone from Bolton, 
formerly at Salem, and before that of East 
Machias, to exchange with Mr. Babcock, and 
we had him also to lunch and after evening 
service to dine at Sunny Hill. So a fortnight 
before we had Dr. Gannett; but he came to 
spend two nights at our house, which Mr. 
Stone could not do. 

We had a great deal of very warm weather 
since you left us, and the peaches have ripened 
with too great rapidity. It is a fortnight to- 
day since report was obtained of the -first one, 
and we had in two days more than we could 
all eat. Miss Binney from Boston came to us 
on Friday before last, and we have had a steady 
competition between her and Miss Holway, with 
occasional exertion of my own to determine who 
deserved the highest credit for devouring most 
peaches. Of course baskets full are sent around 
or down to Boston; and this afternoon is one 



1 89 

to be despatched to James at the University. 
Even the Isabella grapes on the trellis are glis- 
ening like the Virginia negroes after a dance. 

Frosts there have been, but of course only 
in the low grounds; I heard that the South v^est 
corner of my land, towards Whiting's, showed 
signs of it in the vines. 

Yours, 

Jas. Savage. 
Wilkes Barre, Pa. 



Lunenburg, 22 Sept. 53. 
To HIS Daughter. 

My dear Child, — Yours of 9th from Scranton 
came last week to gladden me, and I postponed 
reply for a day or two, that with greater con- 
fidence you might receive the arrangement of 
our affairs here. No doubt this is the last letter 
from L. this season for your eye, because we 
resolve next week on Thursday to go down to 
Boston; and some considerable preparation 
you are aware belongs to dislodgement from 
summer quarters. 

Miss Cobb came up with Amos night before 
last, so we have now a reasonable exhilaration 
in the household; Miss Holway giving herself 



190 

for one hour in lamplight to my game of back- 
gammon, and Miss Cobb to the piano for va- 
riety to the baby and her parents. Reasonably 
has the baby improved in accomplishments, 
crawling or creeping in all directions, and tak- 
ing much satisfaction in the use of her teeth, 
that machinery w^hich cost so much and so 
long time and suffering. Her cunning ways 
of expression and gesture are kept up; and I 
doubt if ever a thing so young had greater at- 
traction. But then you may think me a partial 
judge, especially since her nurse two days ago 
brought her in, to be shown in the library, 
eating rye hasty pudding.* 

You may see in the papers that Professor 
Norton died at Newport last Sunday; and, for 
some qualifications, nobody can supply the 
loss in the present generation. So my own 
feeling goes, and much is it stirred by Mr. Nor- 
ton's death, for nobody except his brother, 
Mr. Guild, is left of our schoolfellows so near 
on equality of years. We were together in 
1797-8 at the academy in his native town, they 
following me one year at Cambridge. How 
long I may last, is of very trifling consequence, 
except as my engagement on the great book is 

♦ Mr. Savage's favorite dish. 



91 



concerned. You need not be afraid, but that 
I shall cheerfully continue to work in that 
mine, as long as any new veins or drifts can be 
explored. Perhaps twenty years unmitigated 
service would be profitably expended; but then 
seven eighths of the period may better be left 
to one or half a dozen other men to complete. 
Our peaches were too profuse, the pig, in- 
stead of a peck a day, as last year, being con- 
demned to a half bushel, and utterly unable to 
dispose of so great a quantity. But the season 
closed yesterday, and no more remains of our 
harvest, except one tree that will be not ripened 
when we abandon the premises. More valu- 
able crop, the potatoes, is less encouraging. 
We fear the disease has seized all of one patch; 
and perhaps the other may be partially touched, 
though of a very distinct species. The to- 
matoes, beets, cabbages, squashes will fill as 
many barrels, however, as comfortably can 
be taken from here and bestowed at Temple 
Place; and the watermelons have been ex- 
ceedingly fehcitous in catching sun beams. 

I rejoice that your husband is busy, and hope 
he may ever be so, like your father 

Jas. Savage. 



192 

Boston, 10 October, 1853. 

To HIS Daughter. 

My dear Child, — You can easily guess how 
much Hkehhood, that you should get a letter 
from me in the first ten days after my return to 
Boston, there was, without my specifying all 
the engagements that were first to be met. 
One advantage or disadvantage of keeping 
up a house in town and also in the country 
must be that on each removal, by change of 
season, from country to town, and to town from 
the country, there is something new to be done. 

For my great work nothing can be said. In- 
stead of a folio page per day, as Lunenburg 
could show on the average, I have done less than 
a single line, having only turned to the page 
three times since coming to town; but I pro- 
pose very soon to give four hours a day to it, at 
least to make that average, and when that is 
fairly begun, I may say the amount must be 
half a page a day. 

Nothing in literature of our country has had 
such rapid success as your cousin Geo. S. Hil- 
lard's Six Months in Italy. Having finished 
it the day preceding my last at L. I forthwith 
began the first volume for second perusal. A 
third edition is preparing, the second having 



193 

been less than three weeks in public; and I 
can feel no doubt that it is by this time printed 
and soon to be on sale in London. I feel con- 
fident there is no book on Italy so well written 
for the great objects that draw travel to that 
world. But Washington Irving, Prescott, Tick- 
nor, Everett, Bancroft, make large demands on 
the capacity of admiration that Englishmen 
and women bestow on our writers; and the gen- 
erous exultation they feel in our success will 
come out anew, or greatly do I mistake. 

Yours, 

Jas. Savage. 



Boston, i8 October, '53. 
lo HIS Daughter. 

My dear Child, — Your few lines of 12th came 
to hand last Saturday and gladly were they re- 
ceived, as it was time to hear of the leaving the 
wilderness. 

We have had no cold yet to boast of. For 
seven days it has been quite summer weather, 
eight days ago a frosty morning brought on 
this exquisite latter geniality. 

Harriet went last Wednesday to Taunton, 
as was projected, and she is expected to return 



194 

tomorrow. Mary I. Cooper came up last Sat- 
urday evening, and Miss Holway, who rejoices 
in the sobriquet of "Countess," arrived this 
morning. In such bright weather, every thing 
ought to go well. 

Cushing's children seem to be highly satisfied 
with the presence of Eliza Cooper, and perhaps 
Mary is delighted with the opportunity of taking 
Helen Cooper round to see the delights of the 
city, the chief of which, beyond all competition, 
is the common with its autumnal glories. 

I was just now called off, as the young folks 
are gone abroad, to receive my cousin, Mrs. 
Gardiner, arrived today from New York, 
though she left her husband there to attend 
to the concerns of the church in the great trien- 
nial convention. 

Be careful to present my sincere regards to 

Mr. Robert Rogers and his wife, and do not 

make it too late before you come to Boston. 

Whom do you expect to visit at New York ? 

You will, of course, let us hear from you there, 

and give indication of the day, when you will 

again embrace 

Your affectionate father, 

Jas. Savage. 



195 

Boston, 23 January '54. 
To HIS Daughter. 

My dear Child ^ — Your long delay had almost 
exhausted my patience, because you nearly as 
good as advised me not to write before receiving 
your instruction for address, and what you sent 
me from Philadelphia was not that instruction, 
though very agreeable relation. This morning 
your hand writing of 20 Inst, is brought, and I 
make no delay to bestow my benediction upon 
you. 

I was never in better health, in spite of the 
sloppy weather that lasted ten days and closed 
on Saturday night last with a hearty North- 
wester. I go abroad almost every evening, 
because my eyes do not well bear steady ap- 
plication in writing by the gaslight; but my 
household attraction is something increased by 
the coming of your brother from the University. 
Still he can hardly pass as many hours with me 
as I desire, and next week he projects an ex- 
cursion to New York and Philadelphia for 
visiting a classmate at each city. 

We have had large opportunity for expressing 
our sympathy with the Gardiners. They came 
to Boston Friday before last, and the next day 
was heard of the wreck of the steamer San 



196 

Francisco, in which their son, W. H. Tudor 
Gardiner, Captain of the Light Dragoons, was 
a passenger on his way to join his regiment in 
Cahfornia. The ship sailed two days before 
Christmas, out two days only of her voyage 
round Cape Horn, she was deprived of the benefit 
of her engine, at the beginning of a storm, the 
next day lost the masts, and was wholly at the 
mercy of the winds and waves. When a sea 
struck her, before three days out, the upper 
deck was swept away, and all the persons, in 
that part lodging, were carried overboard. He 
was covered by a piece of the wreck, when almost 
two hundred, officers and men, were floundering 
in the ocean, of whom only two were saved. 
Poor fellow he suffered every thing, but death, 
having no dress but his dressing gown, and for 
many hours could not even get a blanket, and 
that wet through. At the end of six days he 
was taken off by a Boston ship, from New 
Orleans, and she in distress for want of pro- 
visions and water. On board this relief vessel 
they spent a fortnight, eating plain corn and 
drinking water caught from the rains. How- 
ever he is doing well, though unable to move 
freely by reason of violent rheumatism and 
bruises, and got here last Friday to see his 



197 

parents and sisters. He had been transferred 
two days before reaching New York, to a third 
ship. 

Sincere love to your husband and self 

from 

Jas. Savage. 



Boston, 5 Febr. '54. 

To HIS Daughter. 

My dear Child, — We had wonderfully cold 
weather last Sunday and Monday, not so 
low a state of thermometer for sixteen years, 
it is said; and now today again it is very sharp 
air, about 2° early in the morning. These 
extremes are always followed here by wet, and 
last Wednesday was an universal thaw, in which 
I caught a vexatious hoarseness. Perhaps this 
spell today may pass off with snow, as it must 
begin in that shape, and if it come not very 
copious, I shall hope we get off with little wet. 

With love to William, 

Yours 

Jas. Savage. 



198 

Boston, 22 Febr. '54. 

To HIS Daughter at Richmond, Va. whither 

Prof. Rogers had gone, in the hope of 

the success of a bill then pending, 

asking for the final revision and 

PUBLICATION OF THE StATE GEOLOGICAL 

Reports. 
My dear Child, — Your agreeable news of 
nth Inst, would produce the impression, that 
uncertain action of the Legislature might detain 
you at Richmond until the end of Febr. or of 
March. It is one of my most gratifying con- 
victions, that never again shall my comfort 
depend on what may be done or left undone 
by the legislative body. The greatest nuisance 
in our country (and that is saying a great deal) 
is the session of its assembled wisdom, periodi- 
cally, confound it! that is for a period of three, 
four or five months every year, beside the tre- 
mendous bore of the general congress of cor- 
ruption at Washington, that beats, in time and 
money wasted, all the thirty one state nonsenses 
out and out. Yet it is a necessary evil that 
nobody would more than myself lament the 
want of. But let us more and more, to our 
dying day, keep clear of the general court, or 
general assembly, that we may enjoy good con- 



199 

science without suspicion by our neighbors that 
we have been imposing on the credulity, or 
tempting the avarice of distinguished members 
of the illustrious bodies. 

Poor Lucy has been greatly afflicted. 

The severity of teething for four months has 
constantly prevented any improvement in flesh, 
and, week before last, the measles appeared for 
the second time, with a train of coughs and 
sore throat and eye complaints to destroy all 
benignity of smile or roughness of hilarity. In 
two or three weeks, probably, Harriet, Amos, 
and the baby will go off^ for the South to escape 
our biting East winds until the last week of 
May. Such is Hayward's advice, and I ap- 
prove. 

Of James we have heard only from New York 
the week after his departure from us. What his 
happiness has been he has not told us; nor can 
expect now so late to learn before his return, 
that must be expected next week. At least the 
vacation ends, I believe with this month. 
Winter enough, at least for a few days, he must 
have had. Yesterday morning we could find 
in Boston streets three inches of new snow, 
when New York had three times as much, 
Philadelphia six times as much, and even Balti- 



200 



more was no better conditioned than Phila- 
delphia. 



Love to William, 



To HIS Daughter. 



from yours 

Jas. Savage. 

Boston, ii March, 1854. 



My dear Child, — Eliza was married last 
Sunday .? The service was at the church in 
Freeman place.* 

Sunday evening. 
I hear that you were alive and well last 
Wednesday, because Eliz. Gushing, the judge's 
wife,t got last evening advice from you of that 
date, and that you and William were packing 
up for the next day's leaving Richmond, and 
Mr. H. D. R., whom for the first time since the 
marriage I visited this afternoon to take tea 
with them, tells me you must stop a day or two 
at Washington, and probably reach Phila- 
delphia next Thursday. So I shall send this 
thither. It is a great relief both to him and 

* Elizabeth Stillman Lincoln to Henry Darwin Rogers. Sunday, 
March 5th, 1854. 
f Second wife. 



20I 

me that this news came, for it is a cruel long 
time since we got any account of you. 

Monday, 13 Mar. 
As the days improve in length and tempera- 
ture, I make some improvement in my Dic- 
tionary work, having actually finished three 
pages in two weeks, and now there remains but 
one and a half page of blank in the third folio. 
Perhaps I may open the fourth at the equinox, 
and have a day of rejoicing, as I remember the 
third was opened at Lunenburg in 1852. 
Your affectionate father 

Jas. Savage. 



Boston 31 May 1854 

To HIS Daughter. 

My dear Child, — Gladly was your letter of 
24th from Fairmount, Va. received last Friday, 
and so rapid a transmission encourages me to 
feel as if you were not far off. Next evening 
came one of the same date from Mr. Binney 
at Cincinnati that afforded me much relief 
from apprehension, and on Monday I got one 
from Harriet remaining at C. last Friday where 
they had reached the preceding Sunday. She 
says nothing about her health; and Amos's let- 



202 

ter encourages me to expect that she is as well as 
when she left Boston. Poor, indeed, is such con- 
solation; but better than my fears from the 
language of Mr. Gardiner, and the tone of re- 
marks by his mother. Probably they may 
reach Boston early next week. 

Of course, I have bestowed not a minute on 
any of the occurrences of the anniversary week 
being too feeble to contribute to exhilaration 
and unwilling to mar it in others, except the 
blessed Mass. Congrel. Charit. Society, of which 
so many as seventeen years I was Treasurer. 
If tomorrow be as pleasant as today, I may 
indulge myself with a formal meeting of the 
Soc. for Prop, the Gospel among the Indians, 
etc. 

Love to your husband from your affectionate 
father 

Jas. Savage. 



Boston, Monday 12 June. 

To HIS Daughter. 

My dear Child, — This morning is announced 
the engagement between Ellen Cooledge and 
Edmund Dwight, which is very well thought of 
by their friends of both sides. 



203 

James, of course, was with us yesterday, 
would not be in town next Sunday, even if we 
were; because being the last of his college term, 
a valedictory will be given by Presdt. Walker. 
Next week the youth closes his residence at 
Cambridge. Now can he, can you, can I, 
feel confident, that he has gained by the oppor- 
tunity enjoyed there! What shall be his course 
of life hence forward is to be determined; and 
in a merely vulgar estimate of facility of earning 
a living, that used to be the first thought of 
every body, and may now be too little regarded, 
I fear few young men can be found to whom 
less pay per month would be offered. It is 
good to have something always in view, and his 
notions about horticulture may, possibly, turn 
up better than I expect. 

Yours affectionately 

Jas. Savage. 



Lunenburg i8 Aug. '55. 
To HIS Daughter. 

My dear Child, — Your letter of Wednesday 
was very gratifying to me yesterday. So then 
you had excellent success in all your plans for 
motion up to the mountains of Berkshire one 



204 

day, down to the vale of Worcester next day, 
and the following morning to the noble city of 
Providence. 

Remaining stationary, some changes have 
occurred. What do you think was the matter 
that Mr. Babcock would communicate to his 
people last Sunday afternoon ? Well, the com- 
munication was, that he had made up his mind 
to leave his present station on the walls of Zion 
next October. This was learned by Susan 
when, last Wednesday, she took a drive round 
the village and called at Miss Caldwell's. I 
fear the town will once more have to go through 
the difficulty of making up a decent attendance 
at church, which a new minister is sure to render 
delusive. 

Eliza wished to have the children from Mrs. 
Cushing's to relieve her of the fatigue of keeping 
Edith in good humour, while this horrid state 
of teeth preparation continues; but Mary had 
gone to Clinton to visit her cousins, so we had 
to be content with the two younger. Yesterday 
afternoon, Stephen and Frederic Burrill came 
to see us, having left Newton in the early after- 
noon train, and reached Fitchburg at half past 
two. They go today to Stockbridge, and were 
very agreeable guests; beside which in the 



205 

evening half an hour after sunset came Frank A. 
Hillard, with his wife, child, and a German 
girl to attend the baby, who is a perfect model of 
a servant as far as five minutes observation may 
justify me in forming opinion. She would do 
for a soldier, five feet ten inches high, and 
better looking than one in ten thousand. 

Of James* I may hear by this morning's mail, 
and will send with this, which I will keep un- 
sealed, if anything comes for you. 

I am in perfect health, and hope next week, 
before the middle of it, to show you how strong 
is your affectionate father 

J AS. Savage. 



Boston, 4 Dec. 1855. 
To HIS Son, James. 

My dear Son, — Our latest advices from you 
are of 25 Oct. which is, I think, a wider separa- 
tion than any previous one since you left us 
almost fourteen months ago. Very pleasant 
was your tale of the quiet, first enjoyed for five 
months, on reaching winter quarters at Berlin. 
Whether in the study or in the laboratory, you 
will often think, that the advantages you enjoy 

* His son in Europe. 



206 

are so to be improved, that, next summer, on 
reaching your native land, you may feel equal 
to earning your livelihood in some way. What 
that course may be, is matter of less con- 
sequence, if several forms of employment lie 
open to your choice; and however easy it might 
be for you in either of them to earn bread and 
butter, I shall expect you to select, after large 
survey, that one in which most progress may 
be acquired. Of use to obtain the -first step 
here in promotion for life, would be your bring- 
ing a diploma for some degree in science; it 
may be very unimportant what the name of the 
science is, but let it be reputable. Now this 
must not be sought at too great expense (I 
speak not of money, for that in Germany must 
be small, but time) so that you should not wait 
for such honor more than a fortnight longer 
than otherwise you would. If your acquisitions 
in our own country, with the appliances of a 
semestre at Munich, and now another at Berlin, 
do not qualify for a degree, why I suppose you 

never would desire one. 

5 Dec. 

Your account of a Mr. S. of Hartford, member 
of our Historial Society, is rather indistinct. I 
imagine the relator said Conn. His. Society. 



207 

But probably you pay little heed to what an 
American may tell of his distinctions at home. 
Not that I mean, you should look with suspicion 
upon every countryman you meet, though in 
certain parts of Europe, where the English 
language may seem a passport, perhaps the 
majority may better be distrusted; yet to doubt 
the bragging of any one, countryman or others, 
will always be prudent. 

I presume you may fall in with Ben. A. Gould 
at Berlin, who is engaged in looking up astro- 
nomical instruments for an observatory to be 
set up at Albany, I believe. He was at Cam- 
bridge observatory some part of your collegiate 
curriculum, and is one of the worshippers of 
Professor Pierce. 

Your friend Willy Binney's wife I saw at his 
mother's about three weeks ago, and hope to 
have both of them here some evening this week. 

We are quite engaged, I mean the religious 
society of Dr. Gannett, in looking round as to 
the probability of finding a site for the new 
church edifice we hope to erect. You may live 
to see it finished, but my desire is far stronger 
than expectation. Vacant lots are not to be 
seen in this city convenient in distance from 



2o8 

the dwellings of most of the worshippers; and 
against the only one that presents itself, the 
corner of Boylston and Tremont Streets, where 
is Park Hall, a few would go to great expense 
in pulling down houses on a more elevated spot, 
and another few would pull down in another 
spot, and another, and another, — so that it must 
.appear doubtful until the land is bargained for. 
My plan was to order sale of our Federal Street 
estate, as that would lead to a prompt decision, 
and in every disease, bodily or political, the 
speediest treatment is the course of conduct al- 
ways recommended by your impatient father 

Jas. Savage. 



Boston, 25 Dec. 1856. 
To HIS Daughter at Philadelphia. 

My dear Child ^ — A merry Christmas is wished 
to Girard Street from Temple Place. It was 
high delight on Monday morning to get your 
good account of the journey, so punctually 
performed, and that your husband was im- 
proving in his apparent health. Eliz. Gushing 
got yesterday morning advice of the same en- 
couragement written on Monday, and I hear. 



209 

that Henry had received the full despatch at the 
same time. 

We have done very well since you left us, 
hardly the slightest change in any particular 
having occurred, except the obtaining a new 
cord of wood before the snow came on Monday. 

Last evening at the Club, happening to be 
seated next to Lowell for ten minutes, I mentioned 
the absence of Mr. Rogers, and its cause, what 
degree of hope there was of his return with 
sufficient energy to carry off the course of 
lectures without postponement. He was de- 
sirous of the earliest information, if it v/ere 
desirable that the next course (Rev. Mr. Alger's) 
should be first given. Clergymen are wont not 
to be ready many minutes before the day ap- 
pointed for the service; but in case of Will- 
iam's needing the delay, it might even be ex- 
cusable to postpone, a week, the opening of a 
course. But first and chiefest is the recovery 
of William's strength. It is now nineteen days 
to the first lecture; but the drawing for the seats 
might well be advertised next week, though the 
first of the following week would be sufficient. 
Dr. Cotting is rather punctilious about his 
annunciations. But we must hope that William 
may not be compelled to delay his course to an 



210 

Opening on 24 Febr'y for that, you see, would 
make the closing so late as 7 April. 

With my best love to William, Robert, and 
Fanny, I am, as ever. 

Your affectionate father, 

Jas. Savage. 

21 GiRARD St. 

Philadelphia. 

Boston, 14 March, 1859. 

My dear Mr. Winthrop, — I rejoice much, that 
our friend, Mr. Sears, has cancelled the deed, 
herewith returned. It seems to me, however the 
liberality of his mind in this benefaction to our 
Society is strongly exhibited, that such a pro- 
posed act as erecting Temple dedicated to the 
memory of illustrious men, should not be under- 
taken by any Society that has other objects. — 

For the fulfilment of such a trust would, 
almost of necessity, be sure to excite invidious 
remarks on the decision in nearly every in- 
stance. Remember the violent suspicions and 
jealousies caused by the establishment of our 
most innocent brotherhood of the Cincinnati. 
Nobody but Washington could ever have 
breasted the surges of calumny, and he was 
compelled to assent to material variations 



211 



from its original design. Before we could erect 
a half dozen monuments, the obliquity of the 
judgment of the public would compel men of 
high sense to abandon the undertaking. 
With highest regards, dear Sir, 

Yours, 

Jas. Savage. 



Lunenburg, 20 July '59. 
To HIS Daughter in Canada. 

My dear Child, — Had not the usual bad luck 
attended the letter from your brother James, 
that he wrote yesterday week to be sent by a 
man going down the lake, though postmarked 
Keeseville, July 13, so that by various circum- 
bendibuses it was retarded, and you could not 
hear anything of him before your departure. 
His letter I got on Friday, yours from Temple 
Place on Saturday, and this morning has brought 
me good story from Mount Desert. James 
hopes to write again, he says, on Friday; but 
his hope must have been frustrate, or his missive 
would have got here before this. How to ad- 
dress him, would be a queer problem. ''Bart- 
letts, between the Lakes,'' is the most exact ren- 
dering to be put on his whereabouts, yet except 



212 

that the landlord has fine hounds and abundance 
of material for shooting, and the deer are plenty; 
and though the brook trout are of little account, 
those of the lakes are much regarded, it might be 
that we should feel as ignorant of the place 
since he got there, as before he sat out for it. 

We get along here admirably, but with little 
variety of incidents. On Sunday I went with 
Mrs. Hillard to church at Leominster, and 
would next Sunday drive to Fitchburg. In- 
deed I asked Miss Gushing on Saturday if she 
would go with us last Sunday; but she declined, 
probably on her mother's account. 

There is no change in appearance, except as 
the large gathering of hay goes on. 

A few letters are over the fire place, two for 
William from Williamsburg, Virga. and two 
for you, one from Boston, of the import of which 
I can form safely no conjecture, the other from 
Springfield, having probably some reference to 
the approaching assembly of savants and savant- 
esses there. 

The hours do not hang heavy, because in the 
daylight I have more to do in twelve hours than 
would occupy twenty; but all the time am 
sensible of responsibility for good health to be 
preserved, and that the best economy is not to 



213 

lose half my days in the next two years by 
vainly trying to finish the work in a year and 
three quarters. But in the evening comes the 
regular trial of my game of patience, in which 
it is always easy to make variety. Let me not 
fail to hear of your motions, emotions, and 
commotions, that proper promotions may fol- 
low your return to the embrace of your affec- 
tionate father 

J AS. Savage. 

To Mrs. Rogers from her aunt Mrs. Hil- 

LARD. 

Dear Emma, — Make yourself perfectly easy 
about your Father and myself, we are doing 
very well, he seems quite contented and happy, 
and / am so thankful we have no company, 
I believe I should run away myself if we had. 
Quiet and solitude are what I need, and what 
I could not have had any where else, they will 
do their work with God's blessing, which I hope 
will not be withheld from me. I have been 
sorely tryed dear Emma, but I hope I can say 
God's will be done. I have had letters from 
Harriett, Oliver and Frank. I hope you will 
stay just as long as you wish to and have a good 



214 

time, the girls behave exactly right, I read the 
proof sheets, and all is well. 

R. A. H. 



Lunenburg, 27 July '59. 

To HIS Daughter. 

My dear Child, — I might postpone writing to 
you until there was some thing to tell, but then 
you would not get the letter probably in the 
British Province, if any where in this world. 
Since writing to you there is come advices from 
James of 17 current at Saranac, of course telling 
about trout, and the fly (not only that with 
which that exquisite fish is taken, but the in- 
festing legion that half ate up the fisherman.) 
He lays out to make next halt on Lake George 
at Bolton, thence to Albany probably, and down 
the Hudson. How would he have a letter ad- 
dressed to him, do you suppose } 

This indefiniteness of direction is very natural, 
when people who do not keep in their travelling 
suits the longest part of the year. But the failure 
in geography is also to be lamented, and your 
despatch, of the same date with James's from 
Saranac, though it well begins at South West 



215 

harbour in Mount Desert, and has a postscript 
from William is wanting both in when and 
where, except that some conclusion in logic 
would follow from the writing on the outsidey 
"Paid 10," that it was betrusted to the mail 
within the dominions of her blessed majesty 
Victoria; yet a later despatch of 19th from Bar 
harbour comes to hand only with U. S. stamp. 

Your Aunt Hillard is gone to Fitchburg to 
look for hair, that she may set the servants at 
work, stuffing cushions. We have had ex- 
cellent times for getting onward in life easy, no 
warm day since that you left us with. 

On Sunday last we went with Mrs. Thurston 
to hear the Fitchburg minister, and the pre- 
ceding Sunday we were at Leominster; but 
encouragement is held out that next Sunday 
our own church of Lunenburg shall have its 
own teacher. 

But I must stop, or the mail can be brought 
before getting my regular exercise. 

Yours 
Jas. Savage. 

Keeping the letter open until reaching the 
Post office, I have the great pleasure of finding 
your copious advice of 24th. Nothing later 



2l6 



from Jamie. Another letter from Kate Howard 
at Springfield, so I shall reply as you desire. 
But other letters over the fire-place may not 
need to be opened. Now I go home to dinner. 



Lunenburg, Friday, 29 July, 1859. 
To HIS Daughter. 

My dear Child, — After receiving your advice 
of last Sunday, that came to us on Wednesday, 
I opened the note of Kate L. Howard coming 
that same post, as also the one that came eight 
days before, and of course, as the subject of the 
two was your company solicited to make agree- 
able the Convention of Science next week, I 
wrote to decline for you, inasmuch as your 
explorations in the British Province would 
probably hold you over next week, or, at least, 
you could not reach here before the end of next 
week many hours, you could, at best, have the 
pleasure of partaking in the Scientifics except 
by a peep near the close of sessions. 

Yesterday the remaining fish prisoners were 
discharged from the aquarium. Some had 
diedy so had the salamanders also, and the leeches 
had not been seen since your departure. Mon- 
sieur frog had been elevated to a better school 



21/ 

in Smailes*s brook; and this is, I believe, all 
the household economy that you are much 
interested in. 

A charming note from Harriet Guild that 
came three days after you left, was opened 
yesterday and contents should have been noted, 
had it been necessary. 

Yesterday came letter by the Europa from 
England; and I run the risk of detaining it, 
because of uncertainty of its reaching you 
before you get to Boston. Probably the same 
mail brought advices from George S. Hillard. 

My health has been perfect, and the chief 
anxiety about it is, that I may grow too fat, and 
so less than at present may be the esteem of the 
world for 

Your affectionate father 

J AS. Savage. 

Temple Place, 21 Nov. '60. 
To Mrs. Rogers. 

My dear Child, — Your exhilarating despatch 
of Sunday came yesterday to instruct us as to 
your experience on the journey. 

Gladly you must hear of our gaining the two 



2l8 

Gushing girls to pass Sunday with us, although 
their visit was too short. Eliz. went back to 
Mr. Porter's on Monday, and we could not keep 
Fanny over yesterday on account of her music 
lesson. But the few hours gave us great delight. 
Eliza has been able to go abroad every day and 
her daughter has missed going to school only 
once. 

My amusement by candle light is good enough 
without straining my eyes over books. From 
Mrs. Guild at Brookline we have received a fine 
supply of ripe pears, and at first my hope was 
to preserve them for you; but they were too 
good to keep, as decay had set in. 

Much more you must not expect to be told, 
for the daily gazettes tell everything of general 
interest; and as to petty affairs, as I have not 
gone out of the house to any friends, not even 
to the opposite door, you can wait for the return 
home to get what turns up, if there be anything 
worth hearing that escapes me. So I close with 
best regards to dear brother Robert and his 
blessed wife, and renewed affection deepened 
by the long absence of your husband and your- 
self from your father 

Jas. Savage. 



219 

Lunenburg, Sunday, 7 July 1861. 
To HIS Son, James. 

My dear Son, — You must not depart without 
a few words of blessing from me in the most 
important event of your life that tomorrow you 
are to enter upon. I could not part with you 
by direct contact of hands, — da jungene dex- 
tras — for it almost overcomes my fortitude to 
contemplate the occurrence. But you know, 
without being told, how unreservedly I commit 
you to the call of duty and honor, my only 
son, and how readily I assent to your devotion 
to the cause of your country, the great hope of 
human rights, and the sacred vindication of the 
integrity of my country. 

In this undertaking for the defence of the 
glorious constitution of 1789, to which is due 
all the splendor of our nation's glory and hap- 
piness, which may require years of self-sacrifice, 
and of which, under the over-ruling Providence 
that governs the affairs of men however way- 
wardly disposed, there can be no doubt of the 
final result, it may be that my life will not be 
prolonged to see the close. Be it even so, I 
know there can never such darkness over- 
spread our course, that light enough will not 
continue for us to see the bright termination. 



220 

The hope of all nations for our success will not 
be disappointed; nor in reaching this happy- 
end, through two or three years, or even longer, 
of the deadly strife, shall my country ever be 
brought so low, as in the days of my youth. 

The elasticity of our republican energy is 
proved solely by the pressure. Four months 
ago I hardly knew, that there was any country 
for me to strive or hope for; and in this third 
of a year what immense change is produced. 
Did the civilized world ever witness such a revo- 
lution in so short a time ^ The agony of de- 
spondence and the universal distrust are over. 
We, the people of these United States, the off- 
spring in the seventh and eighth generation of 
the blessed emigration from England between 
1620 and 1641, with the added millions of re- 
generated men from the purest sources of 
France, Holland, Switzerland, Germany and 
other countries that could protest against tyranny 
only by emigration to this side of the ocean, 
in latter times, have before us the prospect of 
unequalled national felicity earned and sanctified 
by the contest so long prepared for by one 
misguided faction in this land, and so un- 
willingly undertaken by the body of our popu- 
lation. 



221 



You may chance, in the progress of a few 
months to see the brothers of your blessed 
mother, who probably are now, with their long 
adopted home in Virginia, wishing all evil to 
our armed hosts. On the banks of the Flu- 
vanna, not above thirty miles from the Univer- 
sity of Virginia at Charlottesville, their farm is 
situated, and though no considerable town is 
near, your opportunity may occur to partake 
their hospitality, as it has to me; but you have 
never, I think, seen that neighborhood. To 
bring your mother to mind such a visit will not 
be at all necessary, for you must not fail to re- 
flect how she would sympathize in your glorious 
service; and when you, day by day, remember 
me, I charge you still more devotedly to think of 
her. What would she feel in your reputation, 
and how would she advise in any unexperienced 
emergency that may befall you! It is not in 
my power to conceive, that my son will ever act 
in a manner unworthy even of his father; but 
that his mother's son should fail to show from 
whom he derived his first lessons of truth and 
moral dignity is impossible. Think of her, 
think of her, as still counselling you, though near 
twelve years have run, since you heard her voice. 

Of course you can sometimes steal a few min- 



222 



utes to tell us here, how affairs go on, about 
which the newspapers must be unable to afford 
us any light. The soldier's life is not, of ne- 
cessity, one of unbroken anxiety, like that of his 
commanding officer, and though every day, 
almost every hour, must have its round of duty 
to be performed, the constancy of the occupation 
will prevent ennui, and often supply pleasure. 
It is now many years since I have known a 
single idle day, and for six months to come I 
expect that every waking hour has claims to 
forward the completion of my twenty years' 
service. 

Last Monday I went to Boston, and attended 
to your business of paying one thousand and 
thirty dollars to Geo. Putnam to liquidate that 
portion of the mortgage on your Roxbury prop- 
erty that would fall due next day, and I have no 
day light to write a word, but the brief 

Yours 

Jas. Savage. 

Sunny Hill, 31 July, 1861. 
To Mrs. Gardiner at Gardiner, Maine. 

My dear Cousin, — It is very long since the 
receipt of your agreeable note dated i Inst. 



223 

but, from the first day of the month to the latest 
it would not be easy for the accusing angel to 
charge me with many idle hours. All my 
waking time that goes without lamp light is 
given to the demands of the printer, and the 
third volume, bigger than either of the preceding, 
shall be issued next month, barring extraordinary 
casualties, for the 6ooth page has just now 
gone from me to be stricken off. 

Of my son we hear with tolerable regularity; 
and from his regiment the daily newspapers 
would speedily communicate every thing whether 
agreeable or disagreeable. But you must not 
magnify my patriotism, as if the giving up my 
only son to be a soldier was any devotion. In 
my sentiment, deeply rooted, the present con- 
test is to settle permanently (now and forever! 
you may exclaim), what shall be the course of 
these United States. Now I feel the great 
uncertainty, almost the certainty, as to duration 
of this civil convulsion. Probably I shall not 
live to see the end; but my share of the expense 
of the controversy may be a very large or a 
moderate one; and whether more or less, it is 
too presumptuous for me to foresee the result. 
That result must be consistent with the benefit 
of the human race, as well as the ultimate good 



224 

of my country, but it may be a score of years to 
pass before it is ascertained. The return of 
peace from this civil war must be slow; it will 
not, I think, be any other than a gradual ac- 
quisition. No man is bold enough, I hope, to 
prophesy the great details of adjustment, much 
less the inferior ones. As I would readily go 
myself to partake the peril, were my age not 
thirty years beyond the propriety of beginning 
a military career, what right have I to object 
to the undertaking of my son. He never asked 
my consent, because he felt sure of my appro- 
bation unasked; and I would not accept five 
million dollars to encourage him to leave his 
duty in so plain a case. 

It grieves me, that your son must forego all 
the opportunity of showing his spirit and the 
knowledge of so many years' experience, by 
the constitutional infirmity; — especially as this 
very infirmity is the consequence of his severe 
training in years of Indian service. 

Herewith is the copy of the photograph that 
Emma has preserved for you; but the other 
matter, stereoscope, is not to be found. 

Please make your husband know, how much 
and how often I think of him, especially since 
day before yesterday brought me the news of the 



225 

departure of his classmate, Henry Newman, last 
Sunday. I saw him a few days before leaving 
Boston, and he seemed as well as ever, and that 
is saying much. 

I was never in better health but mindful of 
the fragility of life after passing 77 years, as I 
did near three weeks ago. If you have as good 
season for the main New England crops, hay 
and potatoes, as we anticipate here, (indeed for 
the hay we may speak more positively,) you 
shall not complain of the failure of the benignity 
of heaven more than could 
Your affectionate 

Jas. Savage. 



Boston, 29 May, '62. 
To HIS Son James. 

My dear Son, — Our not unreasonable anxiety 
to hear of you since the terrible retreat from 
Strasberg was relieved by Major Copeland 
yesterday, when he dined with us, telling of his 
receipt of the telegraphic despatch that morn- 
ing. Today your own precious handwriting, 
in pencil, last Monday, 26 Inst, from Williams- 
port, is at hand, and your long impatience for 
active service has been abundantly rewarded. 



226 

I suppose the experience of three days retiring 
before a superior force of the enemy, especially 
so greatly disproportionate, with frequent charges 
and counter-charges of the retreating and pur- 
suing forces, must much exceed the common in- 
struction of six months' campaign. Well, the 
memory may be pleasant next year, and delight- 
ful in a score of years; but some vexation there 
will be felt for one or another cross accident in 
the history, and perhaps some mortification 
for the failure of this or that platoon or com- 
pany of whom better things were expected. 
Horrid obstacles the impedimenta of our clas- 
sic narratives, the baggage and stores of modern 
hostilities, must be accounted. In my active 
life, during alarms of yellow fever, and ap- 
proaches of cholera, I was accustomed to feel, 
that of all diseases a panic was the worst. Few, 
very few of your division, I trust, could suffer 
the paralysis that the contagion of a panic 
spreads instantaneously; and when you next 
month march up the valley of the Shenandoah, 
the sight of its rocky boundaries, right and left, 
will be attended with hourly exultation. The 
loss of companions will longer moderate your 
enjoyment in the fierce delight of conflict, (that 
is probably the shortest translation of Tacitus* 



227 

graphic illustration of the Manners of the Ger- 
mans, gaudia certaminis) but the comparing 
of notes with survivors in a future day will re- 
vive more vividly the merits of the departed 
than if they had fallen in the common processes 
of Providence instead of by the malignity of 
man. Dear is the purchase, very dear, but the 
country seems to be unanimously coming to my 
opinion fourteen months ago, that the prize 
is worth it, and ten times more, if the outlay 
reach to that aggregate. 

Emma desires me to ask, if she can do any 
service in writing for you to parents or near 
friends of some of your dead or wounded fol- 
lowers. She gladly would undertake whatever 
you wish in this behalf; and since last October 
has been so constantly engaged in labors for the 
contrabands to supply clothing or instruction 
or sanitary materials, would enable her to act 
with equal discretion and promptitude. She is 
gone this forenoon with Mary Gushing to Mount 
Auburn that must be just now in its sweetest 
week of the year, for we have recovered from 
the backward condition of all the surface of the 
land three weeks ago; and the exuberance of 
vegetation makes it probable that our season 
shall turn out benignantly, especially in fruitSy 



228 

the most valuable of which in New England, 
you know, is grass. Rogers was so much ex- 
cited by your letter this morning as almost to 
take up his line of march before dinner to see 
after your comforts upon the upper waters of 
the Potomac. However he was calmed by 
his own reflections; and sticks very diligently 
to the duties of his oflice,* in which he feels 
justly the importance of starting right, as no 
predecessor had furnished example to be 
shunned or imitated. A year ago we hoped to 
be this day well advanced on our way to Eng- 
land, if not actually landed there. This hor- 
rible rebellion leaves us uncertain of the glorious 
restoration of our government to undisputed 
quiet or beneficent activity, but surely there can 
be no such thing in this year of our Lord. My 
book is beyond the power of correction and the 
capacity of delaying me, for the last word of re- 
vision of the corrected last page of proof was 
last week sent to Cambridge. There are no 
more '' k. by the Ind. f " to be taken account of, 
and my closing of Vol. IV almost certifies me, 
that all the faults to be found in it will exhaust 
the patience of any discoverer before he attains 

*Gas inspection. •{•"Killed by the Indians." 



2 29 

the 714 page of such a close packed succession 
of columns. 

I desire earnestly to go up to Lunenburg next 
week, for there my exemption from employ- 
ment, that has severely occupied me nineteen 
years and more, will be most potentially felt. 
Nothing to do in town supposes much of every 
day to be wasted; but in the country the same 
phase of necessity imports that the mind is at 
liberty to give itself up without anxiety to any 
occurrence, Quo me cunque rapit tempestas. 

Your 

Jas. Savage. 
Monday, 23 Nov. '63. 

To HIS Daughter. 

My dear Child y — To your letter of Saturday, 
that came to hand this morning, quick response, 
as it ought, shall follow. It was not a surprise 
to me, that you would not leave New York be- 
fore tomorrow, though the letter from England 
last Friday received here, was directed by 
me to 1 121 Girard Street, Phila. rather than 
the nearer city, as it might have failed to greet 
your eyes in any city between. 

We have got on very agreeably, and Mary 



230 

makes a first rate housekeeper, practising, like 
a judicious apprentice, what she must so soon 
be compelled to superintend. She desires me 
to say, that the whole of your errands have been 
fulfilled; and the only article of business beside 
is, a bill brought in this morning, amount only 
five dollars, for something, bought of somebody, 
somewhere, but neither the place, person, or 
material being legible, I can hardly pay the bill; 
and you will please, on going, after you reach 
home, to pay for the article purchased i8 Nov. 
the day before you left home, to express your 
father's malediction on such bad chirography. 

After business, I presume, you would inquire 
for report of amusements, and I am glad to 
assure you that Friday and Saturday the two 
girls enlivened me for an hour or two in the even- 
ings, having once aid of Mr. Porter, in the last 
our young neighbor *, student from Cambridge. 
We have played the game of all fours with only 
three to speculate. 

I must leave a margin for one of your nieces, 
after assuring you of the remembrance every 
hour of 

Your father 

J. Savage. 

* James Putnam, 



231 

Boston, i Deck. 1863. 
To Prof. Rogers. 

Dear William, — Your very agreeable letter 
of Saturday reached me next day, and very 
glad was I to learn that your stay in New York 
had been subservient to the health for which 
you were in search, and that must enable you to 
put cheer into the circle, to which your brother 
will be so closely confined. Letters you got, 
I presume, sent back from Philadelphia, especi- 
ally one from London, though of any other my 
memory has not preserved knowledge; but 
here is a parcel on your study table that will 
cost you six good hours to hurry through after 
your return. Of them all I suppose the value 
would not be lessened by delay for a few days, as 
confidently I judged was the case with the U. S. 
tax bill that must claim benefit all this month. 

Coming from church over the common, Mr. 
Ross overtook me, when I gave him your mes- 
sage about Wm. Preston.* 

On Sunday evening I called for an hour on 
Mrs. Richards, who, tomorrow, will go down 
to Kennebeck with her youngest brother to have 
perhaps the latest instruction from her father. 

My health had continued admirable, and all 

* The Architect of the Mass. Institute of Technology. 



232 

my acquaintance take occasion to congratulate 
me for it. Careful enough of it I am sure Emma 
would concede, for half the evenings and more 
since you left us I have not stirred beyond our 
own door, and I eat as cheerfully and sleep as 
soundly as if she were at home. Every day I get 
down stairs before the two younger girls, and we 
do not wait breakfast, if they are retarded in 
their appearance at the table 

The Count and Countess Klevzkowski called 
here this morning before my getting back from 
half a dozen stops down town on different con- 
cerns of business natural enough on the first day 
of winter. Always I look out boldly, as far as 
my purse is concerned, for the next quarter, and 
so remain full as ever of comfort and joy as 

Jas. Savage. 



Boston 9 December '63. 

To HIS Daughter. 

My dear Child, — I take this small piece of 
paper on which to write to you this morning, 
because I have so little to say beyond due ac- 
knowledgment of your letter of Sunday received 
yesterday morning. 

Probably you would be as much interested in 



233 

the story of the concomitants of our young 
friend, Harry Higginson's wedding last Satur- 
day as in anything that could be told. Last 
Saturday at noon the ceremony was performed 
in the Appleton chapel, and I did not reach the 
edifice before the first half dozen of the inter- 
ested had withdrawn; but I shook hands on the 
sacred steps with the fathers of both bride and 
groom, as also Col. Lee and one or two other 
near friends of the parties. 

You can expect no details of ceremony or 
dress as I was so much behind time, but the 
bride and her husband escape much overflow 
of visitors because they are staying at Mr. 
Lowell's (as I think) in Waltham. You are 
old enough to know that the marriage gratula- 
tions in our world, may be followed in few days 
by the mourning for some one, especially if the 
circle of acquaintance and friends be of wide 
circumference. The very day before our young 
friend Higginson's completion of felicity, Mrs. 
Daniel P. Parker's daughter Emily, lately mar- 
ried to Dr. Pickman, was numbered with the 
dead. 

I had good opportunity to write to your cousin 
Thomas Savage, at Havana last week, and had, 
of course, as so many months had rolled over 



234 

us, since the interruption of correspondence by 
the diabolical rebellion, to recur to the great 
losses that have fallen upon both of us. If he 
ever have another wife, she may not, I hope, be 
Spanish, though nothing could be more improper 
than to express to him this sentiment; and he 
may have a degree of affection for that island, 
as it v^as his birthplace. Let us give thanks 
that we were born in Boston. 

Your affectionate 

J AS. Savage. 

I Temple Place, 6 Febr. 1864. 
Dear Mr. Winthrop, — Herewith the admi- 
rable note of our kind friend, Romilly, is 
returned, with warm thanks for your thought- 
fulness in sending it to me. Our attraction to 
England is lessened by the certainty that, after 
the doleful experience of our civil war ends, 
we should miss the constant benignity of one of 
the ornaments at the University of Cambridge, 
gentis, incunabula nostrae. 

Ever yours, 

Jas. Savage. 



235 
Lunenburg, 19 June 1864. 

To Prof. Rogers. 

My dear William, — Your advice from Halifax 
written only twenty four hours from port, out 
of sight of land, and closed when making sig- 
nals for the pilot, hoping to reach your stopping 
place in 2 hours, yet out of sight of any thing but 
fog, came to us on Wednesday. Very pleasant 
was your account of fellow passengers, who are 
of so great importance to one's comfort, as to 
make a sea voyage often the most agreeable 
time we ever pass beyond our own home. 

Of course we have had joyous days at Sunny 
hill since Miss Putnam carne to us, and told 
of your felicitous associations in the morning. 
Nothing of predominant interest has occurred 
here in our little circle, which on the evening of 
Friday 17th current was increased by coming 
of Miss Whitwell, as on preceding Saturday it 
had been by Mr. Porter. His affiancee rules 
our dinner and tea table with much tact; but 
his visits must be short. 

A letter from J. S. Newbury of 5 current post- 
marked 6, Cleveland, came up here enclosing 
photographs you had sent for, one for you, one 
for Henry, and asking for yours, and his. I 
begged yours from Mary O. Gushing, and sent 



236 

him; but may not be lucky enough to know soon 
of private hand to carry his letter and enclosure 
that ought not to take the fortuitous carriage of 
mail to you. 

For Emma came from A. Miller, first Lieut. 
Vet. Res. Corps, dated at ClifFburn barracks, 
Washington, D.C., 3 June in answer to her in- 
quiries about the last sufferings of my son, 
his fellow prisoner. He also mentions the 
kindness of the ladies; but the whole en- 
closed jive pages he sent had better be trans- 
mitted to you, for Eliza must desire the 
particulars as much almost as she. Mr. 
Miller also desires picture of James and as I 
shall not write to him, you may answer fully 
from Europe or after return, unless Emma will 
insist on her right and duty. Perhaps I ought 
further to copy from his letter: "My face is 
nearly well. I wear an artificial eye; but I in- 
tend to have another operation performed this 
fall, if I can get to New York." 

The season promises more favorable return 
of products of the soil than for many years. 
Never I think was so great a show of blossoms 
on blackberry bushes by the road side; but a 
drouth may ruin these, as it will the grass crop on 
our hill, if it last three days more. But the 



237 

general deep soil of the farms in this town and 
neighborhood will be likely to yield good re- 
turn for the farmer's diligence. 

Our neighbor Riley's son got home last week 
in fine spirits from his service in the war, and 
would enlist again, but that his mother had so 
watchfully tended him in his prostrate state of 
fever with ague, that he must hearken to her 
opposition. 

20 June. 

You would gain from the newspapers later 
intelligence than could be sent from here in the 
seclusion of the country; but the gazettes in 
our Daily Advertiser of this morning with re- 
ports official to Sunday morning, (yesterday after 
sunrise,) are wholly satisfactory to me. My 
patience is exceeded by nothing but my con- 
fidence in result. So charging you to have no 
apprehension of evil omens, with kindest re- 
gards to your brother, his precious wife, and the 
plaything, I am yours and Emma's as ever 

James Savage. 



Lunenburg, 2 July, 1864. 
My dear Child, — I read last week a book, 
brought out by the times, entitled "The Potomac 



238 

and the Rapidan." It was the work of the 
Chaplain of the 2nd Massachusetts Regiment, 
Rev. Alonzo H. Quint. From the bloody day 
of Antietam, when he told of the fall of Lieut. 
Col. Dwight, he goes back to relate the murder- 
ous service of 9 Aug. at Cedar Mountain, and 
combines the gaps in the line of "such men as 
Abbott, Cary, Goodwin, Williams, Perkins, 
Dwight — dead." Then returning to his date 
of writing, he enlarges: "And now we are sad 
at the loss of another. Major Savage, who died 
in Virginia of wounds received at Cedar Moun- 
tain: an honorable, brave soldier, refined, 
gentle, warm hearted, and one of the purest 
minded men I ever knew; an only son, whose 
parents may God bless. Nobody knew James 
Savage but to respect and love him." We ought 
not to desire more from the Chaplain of his 
regiment, whose book is a happy medley of 
scrupulous facts and most intense sensibility. 
The author's strong right heartedness neutralizes 
his Calvinism, and he resolutely asserts the 
religious emotions of many a one whose dog- 
matic phraseology he might esteem very de- 
ficient in precision. 

For the most favorable promise of early June 
in the dominion of vegetation, an extraordinary 



239 

drought has supervened, as the doctors say. 
Yesterday I went to Boston, and got back with- 
out suffocation. Hay is short. 

Week before last your Aunt Savage went to 
Portland, and suffered in the three days heat 
24-26 of the month, of which the highest range 
here, our postmaster told me was 103 of Faren- 
heit. In our entry it stood at 86. 

Our neighbor, Mrs. Lee, sister of my dear 
friend Buckminster, died, as you may have 
anticipated, not many days after you left Boston. 
Yet it seemed sudden. 

At Boston I saw the Putnams, the younger 
lady having returned from fortnight's visit in the 
country. I dined there, had not time to do 
every thing, forgot more than one, but on my 
walk from Temple Place to take the cars for 
Leominster, called three minutes at George S. 
Hillard's. 

3 July. 

Every day since you left us I have enjoyed 
high health. Miss Whitwell came to visit us 
before Miss Putnam went away; and before 
Miss Whitwell left us. Miss Dixwell, now with 
us, came to keep us in animation. Fanny drove 
her over, with our new Fitchburg horse, to take 
up Mr. Porter and myself at Leominster; and 



240 

coming from there on Friday afternoon, we had 
the pleasure of seeing my admirable friend, good 
old Mr. Treasurer Wilder in the road, and had 
ten minutes chat. 

Here is large accumulation of pamphlets and 
letters from divers persons for William, but 
not one of sufficient interest to bear to be for- 
warded. 

4 July. 

No thunder of artillery is heard on our re- 
tired hill this morning to acknowledge the In- 
dependence of our country, which today must 
be celebrated with almost as great anxiety as 
exultation. A day of uncertainty it must seem 
to many; and since the first outburst of the 
diabolical war, as I have never for a moment 
felt any doubt of its result, none ought to be 
tolerated now. But I am of sanguine, and 
sanguinary, complexion of mind, perhaps too 
much accustomed to have every thing turn out 
as foreseen. Well! on this day the stars and 
stripes are waving on a high staff at Sunny Hill, 
and, and how near Richmond I am not prepared 
to express. Let me hope it can be over Peters- 
burg as the last resting place before the cocka- 
trice's den. But the complication of politics 
at Washington seem portentous of evil, and what 



241 

means the retirement of our Secretary of the 
Treasury ? it is capable of no good augury. 
That Bill for two hundred and twenty five £ I 
sent William week before last was bought for 
twenty one hundred and eighty dollars, the next 
day would have been twenty two hundred and 
thirty dolls, or more, and last week on Friday 
might not have been procured for twenty seven 
hundred. 

At the Post Office this morning your letter 
from England — that is sweet Ireland, of the date 
of the second Saturday after leaving Boston 
reached Lunenburg. Your passage was good 
enough, and as to the seasickness, it ought not 
to have been less. For William the comfort of 
daily meals was much more to be anxious about 
than for your abundant health before embarca- 
tion. 

Our excellent old friend, President Quincy 
died last Friday, when I was in town, but it was 
not known to me till read in this morning's paper. 
You may, I think, assure every body you see 
on the Continent, that of our existing inter- 
necine war, there can be but one end, and that 
the people of France, Austria, Spain, or who- 
ever else wishes to show tenderness to exiles 
from us, may prepare for extensive calls on their 



242 

benevolence, until the refugees gain courage 
enough to feel that they might be perfectly safe 
from any evil but contempt. I doubt, if two 
score in the five hundred thousand will be hon- 
ored with adequate punishment. 

Yours 

J AS. Savage. 



Lunenburg, 9 July 1864. 
My dear Child, — Yesterday brought me the 
letter of 24 ult. from Glasgow, precisely on 
fourteenth day from date, as on the same mail 
steamer came the details of the destruction of 
the plundering Alabama, that we had brief 
report of two days before. Very agreeable is 
every word of your despatches, particularly 
about that dear daughter of Eliza's, whom to 
dandle would draw me across the Atlantic, if 
you were here to regulate the household. But 
how could I be away from this place a single 
week, much more for five months ? It seems 
indispensable to have the current of the day 
constantly under supervision; yet Eliza was 
shocked, that you did not carry me with you. 
What would Sunny Hill have been the middle 
of October next .? How should preparation in 



243 

Boston for the ensuing season have been ade- 
quate ? Explain this matter to her full satis- 
faction. 

Quite a long visit the chief physician of Fitch- 
burg, Boutelle, gave me the day before yester- 
day, having been called to our village by some 
body not by us known. Happily our town has 
not a single practitioner of the healing art, at 
present, for the young one of last year, when the 
oU one died, took himself elsewhere for richer 
pasture; and the place is too dry in soil for any 
prevalence of disease. Too dry, we fear, is it 
for the kindly fruits of the season. Strawberry 
vines are exhausted and our green peas parched 
in their pods. Indian corn may defy, perhaps, 
the failure of moisture; but potatoes, so much 
more valuable product, may be mealy, indeed, 
but not generous in size. The little Naiads 
mourn their famished urns. 

I rejoice to say, that we have gained a great 
refreshment from a little rain, and so the dust 
that nearly stifled us yesterday going to and 
returning from the church at Leominster is 
laid for six and thirty hours at least. 
Yours 

James Savage. 



244 

Lunenburg, 31 July 1864. 
My dear fFilliam, — Your letter of 15 came 
three days ago, so we feel that you are not so 
far from us, as you might be in some uncivilized 
portion of our own country. 

Our Eliz. S. Gushing went last Thursday, or 
the day before, to visit at Worcester that nice 
girl, Miss Lincoln, granddaughter of my old 
friend Governor L. with whom I was coadjutor 
when Emma was a very small child at school. 

You ought not to feel any distrust as to the 
final result of our accursed war, however justi- 
fiable anxiety must continue. Almost any civil 
war would, in the nature of the case, be of in- 
definite duration, as its usual close is in entire 
subjugation; but, in this convulsion of our side 
of the Atlantic, analogy from our father land 
can hardly be illustrative. Since it began with- 
out reason, it may possibly be finished without 
reason; but I can hardly allow myself to fear, 
that the terms of peace will contain chiefly new 
pabulum for restoration of war. As to any 
favor of slavery for a period of a year to a day, 
it is almost as likely that the duration of peace 
should be limited to nine years or nine months 
or even nine hours. It seems to me, that the 



245 

intrigues of such piddling politicians as talk of a 
renewal of amity between North and South solely 
on return to the Constitution, as it was, are well 
enough countervailed by the straightforward 
common sense of our Yankees. It was anciently 
a maxim of Castilian pride, that a short war was 
not consistent with Spanish honor; and surely 
any civil war, especially over a territory of four 
million square miles, may hardly be expected to 
finish itself in four years. We must have the 
concomitant evils with the benefits of such 
horrid unbounded empire as heaven has in- 
flicted on us. 

I August. 
We have had this morning quite a change in 
our circle. The two Putnam boys, students at 
our college in the senior and junior classes, re- 
spectively, who have passed eleven or twelve days 
here, and Miss Morse, who came to us with 
some of the Putnam tribe, have all gone, the 
boys on foot, since our early breakfast. The 
pedestrianians go almost due North to enjoy 
Monadnock and every other elevation on the 
west of the Merrimac; but we have the promise 
from their younger sister of coming this week to 
fmish her visit so delightfully begun week be- 
fore last. Never w^as brighter morning for 



246 

beginning a journey, and I fear it may continue 
so bright as to deny moisture for our vegetation 
and even drink for the cattle. However the 
immediate vicinity of the ocean is refreshed v^ith 
Easterly breezes, and they have been felt even 
as far as this, but lasting only two or three hours, 
and not strong enough to bear us a burden of 
clouds. 

I feel great interest in the political state of 
Europe, as it may materially affect our country. 
If that great gambler at Paris be not engaged 
in embroiling the Eastern he must seek room to 
let off his pestilence upon our side of the wide 
waters. That uneasy throne in Mexico may 
be made more quiet by convulsions to be patron- 
ized in Texas, and many thousand soldiers of 
fortune can be got from the defeat of our re- 
bellion to keep up the hope of havoc. If not 
wanted for subjection of the independent on the 
continent, they make fine buccaneers, and may 
be engaged to conquer the island of Cuba, 
turning their arms against the very power in 
whose cause nominally the third Napoleon en- 
listed them. 

2 August. 

The news that came yesterday from the Vir- 
ginia seat of war so closely approaching to 



247 

a matter of high interest, that I shall not seal up 
this little scrawl without finding what this 
morning's mail can bring. Possibly it may 
enable me to add nothing but my signature, 
with tenderest regard to wife and Eliza from 
their father 

Jas. Savage. 



Lunenburg, 23 July 1864. 

My dear Child, — The steamer of 20th might 
have carried from Boston the letter of Mrs. 
Cabot, herewith forwarded, had she been 
scrupulously careful to send it to George S. 
Hillard the day she wrote it, instead of putting 
it under cover of 2ist to me up here in the 
region of hills, where it was received about the 
same hour that it would have left Halifax. 
However it is safety, not promptitude, that a 
lady most thinks of, and the news she sends is 
often anticipated by the regular mails. 

Yesterday brought your welcome and copious 
letter of 8th from Edinburg with postscript of 
9th from William. But how failed my despatch 
of 20th June to reach you safely.? It was prob- 
ably addressed to care of Baring Bros. & Co. 
Since that, may be, a different address may have 



248 

been used, one (I know) was to care of H. D. 
Rogers, Professor at Glasgow. 

Advice to William. Do not fail to inform 
me what and when items of income will be 
likely to accrue to you, as the sum may be used 
for remittance or expense here. I mean since 
the Nashua which gave you the latter part of 
June ^1050. I dare not think of giving you an- 
other remittance while the rate of exchange is so 
enormously inflated, so you may be sure, the 
first minute of getting advice of more funds for 
your comfort, that the good cause has prospered. 

Aunt Hillard has improved not a little in her 
week's trial of the air at Sunny Hill. If only dry- 
ness were needed, there was never more. Every 
thing is parched up, even the brook, called for 
poor Smailes, has not a drop of water running, 
and that I never remember to have occurred 
before. There has been not five hours rain in 
seven weeks, and much of our fruit, apples and 
peaches, drops stunted from the trees. We 
shall have rain to restore the fall feed, or au- 
tumnal grass, no doubt, and all the New Eng- 
land fields shall be green before your return. 
Ah! that return I long for, being well tired of 
subjection to three grandchildren. 



249 

I am charmed with your Leven, Loch 
Lomond, Callender, Sterling, to Edinburg, being 
the reverse of my course. But I saw more going 
by Perth, on the chief river of Britain. 

Your affectionate father, 

Jas. Savage. 

Lunenburg, 8 August '64. 

My dear Child, — It seems an age since we 
heard from you, because our steamer, that shall 
have brought letters from you, was belated in 
reaching Boston via New York. By the coach 
at half past ten A. M. it will be looked for, and 
meantime I may proceed to tell you what has 
interested us since my last advices to your side, 
under date of 2d Inst, or current perhaps more 
exact. 

On last writing to William there was little 
hope expressed as to relief from the tormenting 
drought, though the promise came just before 
sunset that very day. Wednesday before day- 
light the heavenly benignity began, and with 
most exactly calculated rate of descent followed 
the rain that penetrated the earth almost as 
far as human avidity could wish. Our lawn 
is restored almost to the first week of June*s 



250 

verdure, and even the brooks have renewed their 
vivacity in some sHght degree, and cattle may 
quench their thirst without traveUing to the 
shore of Onkechawalom. We had quite an 
old fashioned leak over the front door and on 
the east side of my library, six tubs of size 
greater or smaller were in use in the front entry 
and some preparation in my room. Luckily 
our visitors had got away two days before, and 
no inconvenience was thought of. 

That army, of which you in a distant country 
receive news from with great anxiety, no doubt, 
and greater vexation w^ith each latest report, 
because the disclosure is not of any precise ap- 
proach to a close of this devastating civil war. 
But you must learn, and more than that you 
must teach our friends, that the termination is 
not so near, to human appearance, as it seemed 
two months since. The condition of civil war 
is, of necessity, one that admits no end, we might 
almost say, for short of extirpation how can it 
come .? Death or voluntary exile of its chiefs 
is the sole end that the losing side must meet, 
at least in its principal projectors; and the 
sober people of England ought to reperuse the 
annals of their state from 1642 to 1648. Next 
they ought to measure the square miles of their 



251 

own blessed island, less than seventy thousand, 
and the survey of our dominion, / fear, could 
not be so little as four millions. The v^rath of 
heaven, for that wricked war upon Mexico, 
inflicted upon us the addition of half a million 
or more; and strike some average between the 
two surfaces, with what arithmetical skill you 
may, the diabolical contention may well be 
terminated between two, and five and twenty 
times two years. Yet the wrath of man shall 
praise him, and the greatness of the change in 
four millions of men, women and children may 
compensate the cost of blood and treasure in 
two hundred or twenty hundred weeks. I shall 
not live to see the total recovery of peace, but 
I feel confident that the world will rejoice in 
its return not doubt and groan for its insecur- 
ity. 

Afternoon. 
Your husband's letter of 22 ult. came this 
morning, and is very encouraging in all but the 
sad annunciation of 22 Oct. as your day for 
leaving England to come home. I shall hardly 
be able to keep up my spirits, for they grow 
languid now, when it is only two months today 
since you left us. Probably your letter to Lizzie 
was as much valued by her as William's by me 



252 

for variety is so agreeable coming at the same 
moment over the same ocean. 

Much do I rejoice at what you tell of Lady 
Lyell, whom I very kindly remember in Boston. 
Since 2d June I have neither seen nor heard of 
anybody in that blessed town, except those who 
have come here, but hope to add Susan Hillard 
in few days, and living in hope, am 
Your affectionate father, 

Jas. Savage. 



Lunenburg, 15 August '64. 
Dear PFilliam, — Your latest report of 29 
ult. came to us on Friday last, the fourteenth 
day from its date, and was very gladly examined. 
We want more exact statements of your health, 
because you are likely to be later in reaching 
home than was our calculation, and the differ- 
ence of a fortnight or three weeks may be found 
to give a bad passage instead of a good one. 
A very few hours of malignant tempest in No- 
vember may cause us on shore as great anxiety 
as to you on board ship. Our seasons vary, 
I know, not a little between one year and an- 
other; but October is late enough, generally 
speaking, to cross the Atlantic, yet much de- 



253 

pends on the moon, for the long nights are 
materially shorter for her assistance. 

I might make remittance for your benefit of 
three hundred pounds, but the lapse of time 
may be more beneficial in reduction of rate of 
exchange than the interest lost; and probably 
Baring and Bros, would meet your drafts as 
readily without as with funds in hand. Mean- 
while the general prosperity of all interests in 
New England continues, except that of the ship- 
ping. A scoundrel privateer may burn in a day 
what a month can hardly repair. 

We have wonderfully been revivified by gentle 
rain again, and all our fields are green as in 
early May. The heat was, however so long 
continued without moisture as to lessen the 
growth of fruit upon trees. Our apples and 
peaches must be small, if they be sweet enough 
to compensate. 

1 6 Aug. 

To-day the younger Miss Putnam leaves us 
and will make a great deficiency in our family 
circle. We ought not so much to lament this 
as to be grateful for the exhilaration that all 
the four have afforded. Yet what uncommon 
diversity between each of the boys and each of 
the girls. 



254 

We have nothing of striking importance by 
mail reports. The world is made chiefly of small 
men, and small things suit them. Our Lizzie 
is going tomorrow to Charleston in N. H. to visit 
her cousins. 

No doubt the inclosed will be agreeable to 
Emma, and so I end with assurance as ever 

Jas. Savage. 



Lunenburg, 21 Aug. 1864. 
My dear Daughter, — In the letter of William 
received yesterday, the hopes of your return 
before November are scattered; and so you 
must expect tedious long nights on board ship, 
unless indeed the relief of moonlight in pleasant 
weather shorten the darkness. Well, it is 
sometimes as genial in November first ten or 
twelve days as in the month preceding, and 
almost never does a bitterly perilous storm 
come on before the passing of full moon. Be- 
sides my hope is of your making one voyage 
from Liverpool to New York, instead of two 
from L. to Halifax, thence to Boston, as I tried 
this track. 

The destruction of Temple Place will be con- 



255 

summated, I suppose, before you get home. 
What compensation may be had by those 
earhest occupants who built the best houses 
in the Court, is to be known only when the 
sufferers are called on to pay their proportion 
of the expense of the abominable improvement. 
It may be. that the money value of the houses 
will be enhanced, but I had rather have given 
fifteen hundred dolls, to prevent the cutting 
down and cutting up than gain twice that sum 
in sale of my estate. Mr. Lee and myself were 
the earliest to build on the old Washington 
Garden, and my hope was to be permitted to 
die in the house erected by me thirty two years 
ago. Still I may have that satisfaction, but all 
manner of carts and trucks will pass the same 
hour of my funeral through the vulgar high- 
way before my door. Such, probably, are 
common evils in all improvements of cities; 
but here there is no pretense of accommodation 
by making a street between Winter and West 
street, unless one, tw^o or three may call it public 
accommodation, that their estates, respectively, 
should be sold at a hundred per cent, advance 
on cost, and mine that I don't want to sell for 
any price, would not bring twenty per ct. above. 
I presume the Alderman that was, our neighbor 



256 

down the court, is the chief manager of the 
concern. 

Yours 

James Savage. 



Lunenburg, 18 July, 1864. 
To HIS Stepdaughter, Mrs. Henry Darwin 
Rogers. 

My dear Elizay — In your very agreeable 
letter of 11 of last month, the beginning de- 
mands serious reply. That you would have 
been very much pleased with my accompanying 
William and Emma, is easily believed by me, 
and that you were disappointed at my failure 
was matter of course; but you must consider 
how great was the propriety, almost necessity, 
of my continuing on this side of the water. 
Our household at Sunny Hill could not be left 
to itself, for the grounds require supervision, 
and the culture requires an encouragement from 
the owner. Besides, what should not be done 
for the comfort and gratification of your Aunt 
Hillard ? And I require aid to sustain life, 
though my health was never better. Pray 
make allowance for my entering last Wednes- 
day on my eighty first year. 



257 

Much am I charmed with what you tell me 
of your Mary, who in her opening faculties is 
destined soon to fill the place of her who is 
gone to the better world, at least to be so far 
her successor as to bring back the dear remem- 
brance with fresher exactness of lineaments of 
mind, if not of person. You know what reason 
binds me to recall frequently the blandishments 
of her, who planted in the last summer of her 
life that little elm shoot not a foot high on one 
side of the drive near the gate, now promising 
to be one of the finest trees in this town of 
beautiful trees. More than a hundred oaks 
and chestnuts are mementos of the spirit and 
love of beauty that always characterized our 
dear James; and this side of the North wall 
their attraction is far stronger than all the peach 
trees beyond them. How could I, dear Eliza, 
fail to pass my summer at Lunenburg ? What 
association with the delights your mother ex- 
pressed in visiting and watering her flower beds 
ought not to spring fresh to mind, especially 
as arises naturally the thought, this may be 
the last season for partaking such delights. 

On Saturday your Aunt Hillard and cousin 
George came to us, after twice failing to be able 
to keep her resolution from feeble health. She 



258 

was not able to go at all to James's. She in- 
forms me, that James's eldest boy has enlisted 
for the special service of a hundred days^ prob- 
ably to do garrison duty at Washington, as 
some thousands are just now engaged, I sup- 
pose, to allow elder soldiers to be employed in 
severer or more engaging occupation. 

Yours 

Jas. Savage. 

Lunenburg, 29 Aug. 1864. 

Dear William, — Your note, accompanying 
the overflowing despatch of 12th current from 
Emma, coming through New York, was re- 
ceived here, in twelve days, last Wednesday, and 
taken from our Post Office as I was on my ride 
to pass the day at Lancaster with noble Mr. 
Thayer. Perhaps we ought not to desire, 
certainly not to expect, more rapid communica- 
tion between the two sides of the ocean. 

What you write of the visit to Windsor castle 
and to Eton was peculiarly interesting, as neither 
of those objects of reverence were included in 
my English perambulations, and only seen in 
the rapid railroad transit. Had I the reasonable 
hope of seeing once more the blessed land of 



259 

my fathers' sepulchres, I should take in with 
those spots of delight the dearer associations of 
Stratford on Avon; inasmuch as language will 
outlive all combinations of stone or brick with 
the mortar of frailty. But, one opportunity was 
not improved, and time offers no fresh occasion. 

You must not indulge in anxious moments 
about any report of great or petty disaster to 
our holy cause. Delay is not defeat, and the 
wily campaign of Grant shall be remembered this 
year as that was of last year. The Georgia field is 
almost as ripe for the harvest as that of Virginia; 
but what a harvest can either yield ? As to 
the degree of destruction which the rebels have 
brought upon their native states, in opposition 
to their true interest of one state, it is likely to 
be remembered a term equal to two human 
generations, if not more. 

The lady, at our last Wednesday's dinner, in- 
quired after your health and Emma, and prom- 
ises to drive over with her husband to Sunny 
Hill to repay our visit. What an event is the 
coming of a stranger to our house! Mr. Clapp 
bounced in on us last Saturday forenoon from 
Fitchburg, to which some business matter had 
brought him the day before from Boston, and 
so gladly we detained him till this morning. I 



26o 

have invited Dr. Gannett to give us a sight of his 
reverend face, but his would only be a flying call. 

This week Thayer is directed by me to forward 
to Barings for you three hundred pounds, and 
probably I may not be able to send another 
dollar before your return. The rate of remit- 
tance may be more easy, we hope, than hereto- 
fore for several months, at least it was so last 
week. For your return, do not fail to consider 
whereabouts the moon must be in twelve or four- 
teen days after that of your embarcation. 
Grievous as it would be, to have you detained 
in England until 15 Nov. it seems to me less 
grievous to live without you until the first of 
April. If you make your reckoning to reach 
New York by the first five days of Nov. it will 
content me; but later than that by five days 
may undo all the good of five months. I know 
by experience the dolefulness of approach to 
New York from the ocean after middle of Deer. 

Perhaps you may obtain, by the steamer that 
shall take this, advice of the doings of the great 
caucus to nominate a candidate for President 
on the part of the opposition, including all the 
traitors from every part of the United States, ex- 
cept those in open rebellion. No curiosity is 
felt about the actual names; but very much to 



26 I 

know, how the grumbletonians will coagulate; 
and what state, or states, above all, the com- 
bined force can command. Discord may be 
prevented by policy in the nomination, but the 
November election may be a great disappoint- 
ment to the rowdies. What sort of moral 
force can be wielded by the several clans that 
make Amos Kendall, the old huckster of politics 
fifty years ago, their leader ? My opinion may 
be good for little; but whoever is set up will be 
knocked down, unless I read signs wholly 
wrong. You must, I fear, lose your vote for 
President, as the election for Electors is on an 
early day of Nov. but no matter, Mass. will give 
five and twenty thousand majority, perhaps 
more. 

30 Aug. 
M. O. Gushing drove over to Fitchburg with 
Mr. Porter and Mr. Clapp, and brought back 
Mrs. Frank Hillard and her two children who 
had came down from Charlestown, N. H. last 
evening. So that I may keep alive until your 
return puts an end to all apprehension of com- 
ing to my death by inanition. 

With truest affection 

Yours 
Jas. Savage. 



262 

Lunenburg, 3 Septr., 1864. 
My dear Child, — Of the highest interest must 
be the operations of the hostile armies in the 
two fields, Virginia and Georgia, but as yet 
Httle more than sameness, however bloody the 
frequent details, is daily told. The earth will 
continue to revolve without change of a minute 
this year from her service of last year, and the 
ultimate result of our war must be equally fore- 
shown to the observant eye, though between 
one week and another very slight change be 
seen. Political small movements are of some 
importance to some people of very small dignity 
at present, who hope that little more than two 
months shall be spent in ripening their expecta- 
tions of greatness. Yet the sober voice of the 
people can hardly be over-powered by the 
traitorous clamours for submission by the na- 
tional government to the claims of the South 
in their present humilition. What shall be 
the result of the ensuing election of President 
may in no slight degree be influenced by the 
phases of military success. The capture of 
Richmond infallibly would over-throw all chance 
for success of that general who when in com- 
mand of all our forces got near enough to 
that rebel metropolis to hear the clock strike, 



263 

more than one year ago; and even the success 
of our troops in Georgia may so darken his 
prospects, as to justify your confident vatici- 
nation in Europe. However there v^ill be, I 
presume, sufficient corruption or wrong-headed- 
ness in two or three of our twenty seven loyal 
states to make a show of opposition to Lincoln; 
and if New York be one of the two or three, let 
the skill of Governor Seymour have credit for 

the disaster. 

5 Sept. 

But the steamer did happily bring your letter 
of 19 with William's 20 ulto. and very glad was 
I to learn that you were to go next day to Paris. 
That centre of fashion too often is the centre of 
mischief; but the mischief can hardly affect you 
except indirectly, so I will not indulge any ap- 
prehensions for the few weeks of your sojourn 
there. Though neither William nor you have 
the facility of speaking French or German, I 
doubt not the blessed native tongue will carry 
you comfortably to any civilized place, through 
it, and back again. 

I enjoy already wearing that pair of socks 
you have knit for me, as they must be of wool, 
coarser or finer, which seems very appropriate 
to our cold Northeast rain. It has come after 



264 

long delay to restore the wealth of the springs. 
This is the first day, since coming up here on 
2 June, when the weather could keep me from 
going down town, especially the Post Office; 
but now this must be despatched before gain- 
ing the important news of the last two days, of 
which however the result is not doubtful to 
me. 

Our country occupations, as usual, are monot- 
onous, but the fine weather has permitted free 
motion out and home almost every day. Plenty 
of inmates we have\\2.A to make the hours move 
swift; and even in this imprisoning rain Mrs. 
Josephine Hillard and her girl and boy will pre- 
vent ennui. Miss Forbes * left us last Satur- 
day after a fortnight's visit, a very nice, quiet, 
young lady. 

As I enclose letter from Molly, it can hardly 
be necessary for me to prolong my scrawl by 
any news of the vicinity, so here closes the gabble 
of 

Your aflFectionate father 

Jas. Savage. 

* Daughter of Franklin Forbes of Clinton, Mass. 



265 

Lunenburg, 12 Sept., 1864. 

To Mrs. H. D. Rogers. 

My dear Eliza, — Your crowded letter of 
2 Aug. detained until 5th coming by the Liver- 
pool steamer of 6th was, by carelessness in the 
post office into which it first passed, missent, 
and so was not received until two days later 
than Emma and William's advice of 12th of 
same. My hours are indeed less animated 
here in the country than if your sister and her 
husband were present to encourage my heart 
and strengthen my hands; but we have some 
variety in company and occupation with scenery 
and objects quite diverse from what Boston 
would afford, so that time does not hang 
heavily on my steps, and sleep is as sound as in 
any other part of the world. 

Your Aunt Hillard is pretty regular in im- 
provement of health, yet in some degree de- 
pendent on the atmosphere. Her son Frank's 
wife and children keep the house alive; and 
beside the benefit flowing from the four Put- 
nam neighbors, of which three at a time blessed 
us, the two college boys and alternately the 
sisters. 



266 

With what you bring up to memory of your 
brother James the reflections of my soul are not 
altogether sad. Nearest to my door looking 
East are three maple trees, 20 feet, 22 feet, and 
24 feet in height, and on the North, not four 
yards from the breakfast room window, is a 
most thriving English elm, all planted, that is 
transplanted, the year before this Catilinarian 
war. How then must I exult in having him 
always before me ? and when I am gone so that 
the place that now knows me shall know me no 
more, nor any of my name be evermore heard of, 
the advancing years will witness the advance 
towards perfection of the work of his hands. 

Your Mary is an example of the justice of 
conclusions by unsophisticated judgment, not 
wire drawn dogmas in theology. Blessed are 
the innocent in framing the whole scheme of 
God's government, and so may safely be con- 
strued that saying: "the wayfaring man shall 
not err therein." You may well feel confidence 
in meeting your Aunt Hillard in a better world, 
possibly once more in this. If the war comes to 
its just end before next June, why should not 
your husband bring you and little Mary to en- 
joy some weeks at Sunny Hill, for you can cross 



26/ 

the ocean and back again in half the time that 
William and Emma require for their purpose. 
Look at their indispensable engagements to 
themselves, London and all its improvements 
for comfort and instruction of the human animal, 
Paris for its innumerable appliances not less 
in petty art than in science. You must show 
your affection to native land by revisiting it, 
and refreshing your earlier associations with 
its people. 

Your affectionate father 

Jas. Savage. 



Lunenburg, 13 Sept. 1864. 
Dear William, — Since you required some 
proof of the predominance of lawful govern- 
ment on this side of the ocean, to be shown by 
the reduction of Richmond, or Atlanta, or 
Mobile, we got the very day I was reading the 
letter, the important post of Atlanta, which 
goes towards control of Georgia, and though 
Richmond may not yield before December, 
it seems probable that Mobile will not so long 
hold out. The intrigues that are at play upon 
the matter of the election of President in Nov. 
must be in no slight degree influenced by the 



268 

military operations from day to day. Little 
respect is shown for the intelligence of our voters, 
when Vallandigham is allowed to take upon 
himself the management of machinery so justly 
esteemed worthy of the most pure hands and 
undisputed skill. What a conclusion to be 
drawn on the worth of a country that by its 
popular vote should sink down so low as to re- 
ceive his dictation ! Will one of the electoral col- 
leges be so degraded .? We shall see in eight weeks . 

We have had one day only wherein fire was 
not desirable for the last fortnight, and that 
was slightly changeable. 

Molly O. Gushing made a run for thirty six 
hours to town, and reports that the work at our 
Temple Place house is done, and the paint may 
be dry next week. The work of opening the 
Place to become a thoroughfare to make profit 
for the two or three lower dwelling houses on 
each side by arranging as warehouses will not 
probably begin before you get home. I will 
not abandon the residence, while three houses 
on the North side, and four beside mine on the 
South are not turned into Mammon shops. 
Only two or three of the twenty residences are 
tenanted by people who own them and join in 
the plan of letting in the Goths. Owners who 



269 

get income by renting their tenements may be 
excused for aiming at larger income; and it is 
not unnatural that one or another may think 
it no bad thing to sell for double what their 
respective dwellings cost, however difficult it 
must be to find such desirable homes. Perhaps 
my affection is a little influenced by having my- 
self built the house to please my wife; and so 
I feel too old to move. But my spite against 
those who resolve to sell extends not very far. 
It may be that not more than one or two would 
sell wife or child at ever so exorbitant price, and 
so my putting the parallel article of merchand- 
ize looks not like contempt of the majority of 
the same race and education as 

Yours 

Jas. Savage. 



Lunenburg, 19 Sept. 1864. 
Dear William, — Your crowded letter of 2d 
came to us here on Saturday morning 17th and 
very agreeable was the proof it afforded of your 
continuing improvement in health, and con- 
fidence in the triumph of our country. Exactly 
in proportion to the labor and anxiety with 
which the common goods of life are gained may 



2/0 

well be the degree of enjoyment; and so far the 
infinitely higher blessings, pertaining to a nation 
shall the next age exalt in the sufferings that 
purchased them. If the treasonable designs 
of the projectors of our accursed rebellion had 
been nipped in the bud, and nobody punished 
for the incomplete perfidy, the great mass of our 
community would have never been instructed 
in the designs of the trusted members of Con- 
gress, and the explosion of the volcano would 
have been postponed for a better opportunity, 
which might have been many months in coming 
up. Probably the devastation of some other 
parts beside Virginia must be sufficient to 
fasten in the memories of all over seven years old 
the advantages of the Union not to be thrown 
aw^ay in a moment of passion at the loss of an 
election, artificially caused by the few skilful 
concocters of the hell broth. Experience can 
intrust all but fools; and the millions will not 
for half a century be misguided by a few knaves 
to such a precipice as two fifths of our people 
have jumped. 

The election of President may not show 
exactly the confirmation of my augury, because 
a few votes can perhaps be gathered for the 
opposition; but nothing like one quarter will be 



271 

thrown against Lincoln; and it would not so 
much surprise as delight me, if not a single 
elector for McClellan, or other candidate to be 
drummed up, could be chosen. 

We have here a pleasant season to be spoken of 
as an aggregate, very short duration of any foul 
weather, though some three or four days in suc- 
cession of ungenial sky occur. Some prod- 
ucts are abundant beyond common results of 
culture, and peaches seem to be as abundant on 
a few score of trees as apples from the thousands. 

Our house is pretty liberally furnished with 
guests. Dr. Gannett came to us on Thursday 
evening last, from Boston, and Eliz. from up 
country brought her cousin Rebecca; Susan Hil- 
lard and her niece. Miss Howe, came on Fri- 
day, so we have five Hillards at table, and four 
Cushings. Dr. G. returned to Boston on Satur- 
day, and of course that afternoon Mr. Porter 
came from Boston. 

You need not fear the inconvenience of having 
too much money in your bankers' hands, and I 
presume no shower of gold would delay your 
return home. Our house, I hear, is thoroughly 
in trim, and the new paint is admirable. The 
abomination of turning our Court into a street 
may not be so cruel as it is contemptible; 



2/2 

though vexatious enough will it be to pay a 
high tax for my house in consequence of the 
improvement I so strenuously oppose. Vain 
is the opposition to a personal interest in one or 
more representatives of the popular wisdom in 
municipal affairs. 

In my vaticination nothing but disaster to 
our armies can prevent re-election of President 
Lincoln, and those who therefor wish such dis- 
aster are not very numerous by the reckoning 
of others beside 

Yours 

J AS. Savage. 



Lunenburg, 26 Sept., 1864. 
My dear Child, — You see regularly the reports 
of the various indications of the great civil war; 
but the people here better understand the prob- 
abilities of result than any European can. He 
may, to be sure, judge by the daily fluctuations 
of the money market, and, in the last week, 
that has supplied a solid basis for anticipating 
the history of the next two or three months. 
But we have, you know, the quadrennial elec- 
tion to agitate the waters that otherwise would 
be moved only (by) breezes from the fields of 



2/3 

battle. How should you wish the choice of 
President, six weeks hence, to terminate ? Put 
your trust in the good Providence that governs 
all events to bring order out of confusion in this 
very interesting question. I would not denounce 
as an enemy every man who refuses to vote as 
to me seems the indispensable ballot. Some 
of our old friends promise the country immeasur- 
able good from election of General McClellan; 
and to me the success of the unprincipled party 
that most readily adopts him is the most un- 
mitigated evil that could come upon us. Blinded 
by my hopes, I may be extravagant in reckon- 
ing upon four fifths of the electoral colleges for 
our present "honest Abe:" and if nine tenths 
of them concur, it will be no surprise to me. 

27 Sept. 
Last evening we had at Sunny Hill our annual 
bonfire. It came in happily to exhibit the com- 
pleteness of triumph of the good cause, which 
in the day time had caused the flag-staff on my 
grounds to be occupied for the second time this 
season; but if the report of the capture or sur- 
render of Mobile, brought up from the city 
several hours later than our mail news, be con- 
firmed to-day, it shall not turn to my disrepute 
as too sanguine. 



274 

You have, I hope, on the continent been en- 
joying as fine fruit as we have had here; in Eng- 
land I know you never can attain to them. 
This morning the last basket full of our peaches 
is brought in. Foster was careful two days 
ago to bring in the melons, and it is a fortnight 
since his prudence preserved the pears. The 
yield of potatoes is not very copious but of supe- 
rior quality. In the other vegetable products 
my information is less exact, but the benignant 
winter squash will show her charms to some 
extent in Temple Place, if potatoes prove de- 
ficient in next Spring's call. 

Tomorrow will carry away not a small por- 
tion of our exultation in the visitors, if weather 

be not unpleasant. 

12 o'clock. 
Nothing is obtained by mail, so we set down 
Mobile as still enjoyed by the Egyptians. All 
well up here, and looking for good news before 
your return to the arms of 

Your affectionate father 

J AS. Savage. 

Lunenburg, 3 Octr. 1864. 
My dear William, — Whereas this epistle is to 
be the last that I may ever write you, being that 



275 

you have long ago indicated the day of your 
leaving the other side of the ocean to return 
home in the good ship Persia, v^hose day of 
sailing is fixed for three weeks from the first 
day of this month, you may be glad to learn, that 
up to this present v^riting all things on our 
side promise well. Exact statement of affairs 
you can and must obtain from the newspapers 
for the great concerns of our nation and the 
current of the war. The day of close of the 
accursed rebellion approaches with strides, some- 
times stumbling indeed; but in the aggregate 
the country is gaining, whether a few weeks 
or a few months more of agony are to be en- 
dured. Our discipline has been severe enough 
in this school to teach the whole nation for two 
generations yet to come, that another attempt 
at revolution for no adequate cause will be folly. 
From the present the most guilty have suf- 
fered most, but above all that battle ground of 
Virginia will be the evidence of honesty and 
sagacity united in Mason. We may be the hap- 
pier as an aggregate, before the individual misery 
can be mitigated; and blessed is the coming age 
that may hardly understand the computation of 
expense by which their happiness was pur- 
chased. 



276 

Lunenberg has been, on the whole, perhaps 
as good a residence as any other spot on this con- 
tinent could be, but the absence of you and 
Emma has almost every day furnished me 
ground of momentary disquiet. Probably the 
advancing years bring to me, as to every one, 
after reaching the eightieth, that degree of 
mental feebleness which produces fretfulness. 
So at breakfast, dinner, or tea, comes the resolve 
that never again will I permit you two to leave me. 

Our household is now less crowded than 
when I wrote last, for since this day week 
we have parted with eight, and have gained only 
one, beside Porter, the Saturday comer. Aunt 
Hillard's infirmity permits occasional enjoy- 
ment of company, and is not dependent on the 
weather, except for the benefit of air by means 
of a ride, which cannot be taken by an invalid, 
unless in very bright sky. 

Perhaps you may, when this letter reaches 
London, be already on your way home so far as 
to have gone to see Eliza, not intending return 
to the great metropolis. 

Having gone to Boston but once since you 
left it, and hoping not to be compelled to go 



277 

before 20 current, it is not in my power to write 
any little particulars of private intelligence that 
would never get into the newspapers, yet be of 
higher interest than the important concerns of 
war or faction. In the election of President 
to come in five weeks the prophetic vision is, 
of necessity, influenced by the vaticination as 
to the contests for less important officers at 
earlier date, as next week in New York, Pennsyl- 
vania and Illinois. For the first two there will 
be great struggle, and the battle of blood may be 
very influential by its report. My foresight 
is feeble, but results in the right having four 
fifths of the ballots, and a chance not despi- 
cable for nine tenths. So ends my chapter, 
with blessings from 

Jas. Savage. 



Lunenburg, i July 1867. 



To HIS Daughter. 



My dear Child, — I was calculating that the 
very next day must bring us later advices over 
the ocean, when my newspaper came to hand 
with the London news of yesterday. 

Our season is gaining in fertility, so that we 
ought not to complain of its being a few days 



278 

belated. Never was more green visible all over 
the fields. Much promise is furnished by our 
garden, and the strawberries reward the task 
of picking to admiration. The field of winter 
sown rye is beyond expectation prosperous, 
over four feet high, running the whole space 
across from the hedge of the horse and carriage 
way to the stone wall on the road. You remem- 
ber rye is my staflF of life, and probably there will 
be so much, that I can sell half, and have enough 
to eat till later than to-day next year, beside 
supply for next May planting. Our pious 
Plymouth first settlers returned thanks to God 
"who gave them to suck of the abundance of 
the sea and of treasures hid in the sand," when 
their total food was fish and clams. 

We have had less cheerful days since we lost 
our charming visitors, the Putnams. We hope 
your own pleasure, not ours, should be consulted, 
when you are thinking of taking the passage 
home. What an autumnal passage along the 
current of the gulf stream is I very well remem- 
ber; but autumn has many weeks; and it may 
be your lucky chance to get a fair weather run. 

2 July. 

My genealogical, or perpetual, study is prose- 
cuted with consistency, and the advantages to 



279 

be derived from this occupation may not be 
realized in this generation; but some obscure 
inquirer a hundred years hence shall acknowl- 
edge how much he owes to that Mr. Savage who 
beat Job in his patience. How unwise would it 
seem to all the world, if after thirty years prep- 
aration and actual seven years since putting the 
first volume into the open world, the author 
should declare he was too tired ever to complete 
the task of revision, probably requiring hardly 
two years more. Well, while I can hold a pen 
and turn over a page, the service will go on, and a 
more faithful friend than my volume will cer- 
tainly not come in to claim thanks for his good 
company. To leave to posterity a reasonable 
gathering is not to be charged as base miserly; 
but as no money is associated with my gathering, 
the credit must not be envied, for the profit never 
can be large. 

Such crowds of our people are crossing the 
sea, that you must know as early as we, and 
often sooner, what occurs in our private circles. 
Of and concerning the political world you never 
need to trouble yourself to write, for you know 
all that is done is soon told; and what is barely 
talked about is fluctuating as ocean tides. It 
would be worth something to know now, what 



280 

shall be the state of our affairs twenty years 
hence; but on any intermediate day it would be 
foolish to augur what must be the relations of 
men and things, and hardly is it possible that 
the coming or going of any acquaintance or 
friend from or to Europe will intervene before 
the happy week when my only child's return 
from Europe shall announce to me, that we shall 
never again be separated many hours. 

Eliza seems much brighter this morning. 
Your Aunt Hillard is not yet come down stairs, 
and will not be expected before noon. Our 
world goes well, I believe in all matters that you 
or I are interested in, so trust 

Your affectionate father, 

Jas. Savage. 



Lunenburg, 30 July, 1867. 

My dear child, — That it seems a very long time 
since we have heard from you, should not be 
disheartening, because to me it appears a very 
much longer time since I wrote to you. 

However I must tell you how kindly the world 
affects me. Since the latter part of June we 
have generally enjoyed pleasant life here. Now 



28l 

we have Mrs. Russell from Plymouth with a 
little daughter, just the right playmate for Eliza's 
daughter. 

The date of your latest letter is 30 June, with 
P. S. of 2 current, so that we look for another 
to-morrow; or if France disturbs the current of 
postage as of politics^ we must be patient. 
Usually I prognosticate good, and so avoid 
much that troubles many folks. It would be 
difficult, as well as dangerous, to borrow trouble 
here. Even the newspapers, so powerful pre^ 
cursors of mischief, can hardly find in their sky 
a cloud of portent so big as a man's hand. Yet 
with as great avidity as ever I seize on the diurnal 
paper, though after looking through it, it is 
impossible to tell any thing there was in it. 
Probably it is affected by the summer sky, and 
the editors are unable to foresee any threatening 
storm. Even our national Congress, where 
usually the members foresee nothing more 
distinctly than complications foretokening a 
crisis, has quietly separated, not thinking even 
the President of so much importance that it was 
necessary to quarrel with him. 

You will find nothing changed up here in the 
country that can attract notice, all that occurs to 
me is, poor old Smailes's house, which has been 



282 

shut up most of the time since the death of 
the poor proprietor. His widow meets large 
benevolence in the centre of our town, and only 
two or three other citizens, beside myself, prob- 
ably recollect that the cottage was once occupied. 
One or two persons have been drawn from this 
town to the flourishing capital of North Worces- 
ter only four miles off. Though no accession to 
our numbers will be observable on your return, 
yet at moderate distance from us a growth is 
easily perceived, in Leominster almost equal 
to Athol, which is the proud sovereign of all the 
North, you know. 

As to occupation, there can be no difference. 
I am deep in revision of my Genealogy of 
New Eng. having got about two fifths of the 
work done; and looking forward to finish the 
whole in two years more, be but health pro- 
longed. As my reputation a century hence 
must depend, (if any remains so long) on the 
Genealog. Dictionary, I conscientiously bestow 
my time every day on revising the four heavy 
volumes; and I assure you, that a good portion 
of every day in that period will be needed. 
Happy is it that something so imperious shall 
confine my affections in the study. 

My day of responsibility is past, and I ought 



283 

not to feel any solicitude as to judgment of con- 
temporaries on what has been accompHshed or 
slovenly neglected. / have made a path easier 
for others; and whether any shall express grati- 
tude for the service, or overcast the whole with 
ridicule, I shall not inquire. One student in 
ten thousand will understand New England 
History better in its early days for my researches. 
How unimportant that he may be ignorant of 
the humble benefactor that smoothed the way 
by levelling obstructions or filling gaps. 

If you are so happy as to meet any one 
(hardly can it be, that you are so lucky as to 
find more than one) who would speak of re- 
membering me on the blessed shores of old Eng- 
land, assure him or her of my unabated regard 
for that land which educated my ancestors, and 
has kept up a race of benefactors of the world. 
Twisleton may be the sole survivor of agreeable 
instructors of my ignorant hours. If you fall 
into company with him, I charge you to present, 
without fail, the most sincere regards and kind 
remembrance of 

Your devoted father 

J AS. Savage. 



284 

Lunenburg, 13 Aug. 1867. 
To HIS Daughter. 

My dear Child, — We have visitors now and 
then to remind us that other folks are in the 
world beside those who live on "Sunny hill." 
Most of my time is earnestly devoted to mak- 
ing perfect the text, and commentary of my 
Genealog. Diet, and it seems certain that the 
preparation for revised Edition to go to press 
will be complete to the last cover before you 
leave Europe to return home. 

Your Aunt Savage has not blessed us with a 
visit this season, and probably she will post- 
pone to next June her smiles on this part of the 
country. Of Boston or the dwellers there I 
learn only by the newspapers, which, of course, 
much, if not wholly, are claimed for general- 
ities. Here I go to the post office once a day, 
and am sure to get a damp newspaper, if not 
two; and once in a dozen times something 
worth reading may occur in them. The next 
election of President draws no general interest, 
perhaps it is too soon; but as all appear to be 
satisfied with waiting to be relieved of the pres- 
en incumbent, we may be confident that he will 
not be likely to have one quarter of the votes for 
the next filling the office. 



285 

I am obliged to break off this petty gossip, 
because it is our dinner time; and if nothing 
more be added before sealing this letter, then 
you may be sure that your father has nothing to 
complain of, and so will not inflict more tedious- 
ness on your innocence. 

We are enjoying in little anxiety the passing 
hour. I have great hope, that William will have 
much of interesting matter to tell on reaching us ; 
in anticipation of which I add my name, being 
unable to say more than that it is the signature of 
Your affectionate father 

J AS. Savage. 

Lunenburg, 20 Aug. 1867. 
To HIS Daughter. 

My dear Emma, — Pretty busy for the last ten 
days have I been, chiefly occasioned by company 
from some distance in different directions; and 
yesterday, most agreeable, from Salem in the 
mother and daughter (youngest) of my old 
friends, the Hillards. 

I believe Eliza is engaged in writing to you; 
and therefore I might take the liberty of being 
very tedious; yet that may as well be spared, 
for she will tell what would occupy me. 

You know by the vehicles of daily converse, 



286 

how wonderfully our side of the ocean has been 
blessed with overflow of blessed rains. What 
do you think of our cellar, on the top of the hill, 
having nearly four feet of water. How could 
it be there ? Strange, indeed, it seems, and the 
only explanation is that the spouts poured 
down faster than the conveyances, that were 
not perpendicular^ could transmit their cargo. 
Much damage is talked, as the consequence of 
our flood, nobody can recollect within thirty 
years such quantity of rain. So there is sure 
to be no lack of material for conversation. All 
low ground is covered, and water stands a foot 
deep in some roads, and some houses do not 
open their doors on the lower story, lest they 
could not be closed again. However as our 
hill is six hundred feet above the level of the lake 
and my house within a few inches of the highest 
part of the surface of the hill, we may trust in the 
promise, that the earth shall not again be 
flooded. 

You must excuse the brevity of this scrawl, 
for Eliza is hurrying me to end her valuable 
letter, and mine may be good enough for 

envelope. 

Your most affectionate father 

Jas. Savage. 



287 

Lunenburg, 3 Sept. 1867. 

To HIS Daughter. 

My dear Childy — Exhilarated we have all 
been this day by receipt of your advice of 20 of 
last month, because partly it is the shortest 
period that has ever elapsed since the date and 
delivery of any of your letters. We must feel 
at the sudden complaint of William, and vexed 
at the detention of a fortnight in your embarca- 
tion for home, it gives us some petty relief inas- 
much as you gain the communication that v^e 
had yesterday thought had been closed. Of 
course I had thought of writing to you no more 
than of sending despatches to the Emperor of 
China. 

I can tell you of no matter of interest in our 
domestic relation, except that your Aunt Hil- 
lard has gained in a very slight degree, and two 
of her boys will give us a visit from Boston this 
week which must be a cordial to her spirits. 
She charges me to give her love to you. 

We have no company to occupy our leisure 
hours now, except a single young lady who has 
quite fascinated us by her amiable manners 
and cultivated conversation. 

I am obliged to close this scrawl, because the 
mail at our next town must close in one hour, and 



288 

we shall take a drive to Leominster to deposit 
this evidence of the delight v^ith which your 
letter was received and hope that this may be 
the last this season from 

Your affectionate father 

Jas. Savage. 



